The Wandering Mage: Thedas
by The Lamentation
Summary: A crossover between Harry Potter and Dragon Age. Harry has been helplessly wandering through various dimensions since unknowingly becoming the Master of Death during his first life. Will he find some peace and companionship in Thedas? Set during the events of Inquisition. Not incredibly overpowered HP. No pairings planned as of right now.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Harry Potter franchise, Mass Effect franchise, or Dragon Age franchise. This is a purely fictional piece written for my (and hopefully the reader's) pleasure. No monetary profit is intended.**

 **The Wandering Mage: Thedas**

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 **Chapter 01**

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 **Prologue**

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The seemingly young man stood amongst the rubble and bodies that seem to stretch as far as the eye can see in what used to be a great city staring up at the night sky. The once proud and sprawling metropolis of steel and chrome has been reduced to crumbling ruins, craters, and the discarded bodies of the fallen. Directly in front of him was what remained of a busy main street, if he looked past the destruction and tried to imagine how it once was. Boarded up or outright demolished shops lined the buildings to either side of the crater-filled street, long-dead flashing neon signs hung dejectedly in front of their abandoned places of business, and the occasional bullet-ridden car sat in the road. If the man listened carefully, he could hear the distant sounds of continued fighting in the distance as the war for survival raged on. The faint cries of soldiers barking orders, the sharp retorts of gunfire, the explosions, the horrifying and unnatural howls of an enemy that took no quarter and spared no lives, and the screams of the dying.

Far, far above the broken planet another kind of war raged on. A furious battle took place up past the outer layers of the atmosphere that lit up the dark skies at frequent intervals. Hulking squid-like monstrosities and their smaller drones flew through space as they did their best to destroy the opposing fleet comprised of various classes of starships. Massive dreadnoughts unleashed payloads powerful enough to level small cities, similarly sized carriers deployed seemingly countless smaller fighters to swarm and harass the enemy, cruisers pounded enemy shields making up the bulk of the opposing force, and nimble frigates swept in and out of the heavy combat searching for weaknesses to exploit. The once clear orbit was filled with debris from destroyed ships on either side and at the core of the battle was a truly gigantic space station known as the Citadel. Over 7 kilometers wide and 40 kilometers long, it was here that the fate of the known galaxy would be decided.

In spite of the horror and death surrounding him as well as the seriousness of the final stand being made at the planet, the man had a barely noticeable soft smile on his youthful face.

" _So you managed to win after all, against all odds? Congrats… Shepard."_

The entire world seemed to pause as an unnaturally bright red glow originated from the heart of the space station before exploding outwards. Rocketing through the fighting ships in orbit, the monstrous invaders seemed to just shut down and drift as the wave of energy passed through them. The drones controlled by them similarly turned off as signal from their masters was lost and in an instant the previously doomed final stand was won. Taking advantage of the situation the opposing fleet immediately unleashed everything they had on the now defenseless enemy, shredding through the creatures called Reapers like a hot knife through butter now that there was no opposition.

Down on the ground a very similar event was occurring as the energy enveloped the world known as Earth. Across the world the enemy seemed to collapse like puppets with their strings cut to the astonished eyes of the various races fighting for survival against the invading forces. Shortly afterwards all around the world the defenders began to slowly realize that it was over. The previously unwinnable final stand had somehow been turned around, and the survivors rejoiced and shouted their victory to the heavens.

Back with the smiling young man, he slowly sat down and kept his gaze skyward as a familiar sensation began to niggle and itch at the back of his skull. Letting out a quiet sigh as his hopes of having some downtime before moving on evaporated, he mentally wished those he had grown close to the best. It was time to go. Had there been anybody alive in the vicinity, they would have been stuck watching in awe as what appeared to be a tear in the world manifested before the man. The air was filled with the sound of howling winds as his messy black hair was whipped around violently by the force of it, and he stood again with a world-weary sigh. Walking forward in a resigned manner, he offhandedly comments to himself, "Wonder what kind of place we get next?"

Once fully inside, the jagged tears slowly seal back together and the gale force winds die down as the rip seals behind the Master of Death and he leaves the remains of London for his new, unknown destination.

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 **Author's Note: So this is just a quick prologue to a story I'm planning to write with the tried and true cliche of Dimension Hopping MOD Harry Potter to gauge if there's any real interest. Can't promise great grammar, spelling, or timely updates at the moment and English isn't my first language.**


	2. Chapter 2

**The Wandering Mage: Thedas**

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 **Chapter 2**

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"Remind me why we're here again, please? Because if there's not a damn good reason for us having to slog our way through this many templars, apostates, and demons in this miserable cold weather I'm gonna hurt somebody," grumbled Inquisitor Lavellan for the hundredth time as she quickly bandaged her minor wounds from the party's latest fight in what seemed like a never ending journey through the outskirts of the Hinterlands.

"Are you trying to tell me that this kind of behavior isn't standard for you barbarians down here? Why, back in Tevin-OW!"

"Dorian stop trying to rile up the Inquisitor, you know she's just going to keep hitting you when she's in a mood like this. You're lucky you don't have an arrow in you," snickered Varric. "And for the record, we're here because of the rumors about some apostate nearby with miraculous healing abilities."

"We already have Solas for healing us" the Inquisitor looked distinctly unimpressed as she raised an eyebrow at the dwarf, "I don't see the point in traveling through the middle of this warzone for some apostate we have no real intel on and no guarantee he'll work with us."

"Yes, but our diminutive friend said he's _miraculous,_ can't you use those big elfen ears of yours to list- STOP TRYING TO HIT ME WOMAN!" Dorian yelped as he had to quickly dodge out of the way or be cuffed in the side of the head by the deceptively small hand. For such a small woman the Inquisitor could pack a punch when someone was arguing or being obnoxious.

Cassandra just sighed as she watched the familiar interactions between the other group members. _"Dorian is always joking around and teasing the others, can he not remain silent for any length of time?"_ Despite her exasperation with the Tevinter mage at times like these, she did appreciate his ability to lighten the mood during such stressful times. Of course, she would _never_ tell him this or he'd never let her forget and increase his jesting. She shuddered slightly at the thought.

"Are you alright Cassandra? You're shivering." The Inquisitor pointed out with a note of concern in her voice that made the Seeker smile faintly. The elf always took the time to make sure everybody was okay and unharmed before moving on, and she knew the rest of their motley group of fighters appreciated it too.

"Yes, I was just imagining you gagging Dorian for the rest of the journey so that we don't have to listen to his smart mouth."

"AHA! I knew you secretly thought I was smart Seeker!"

The others all groaned in unison as the flamboyant man started to list off his other 'numerous perfect traits' while they set off once again towards the area the apostate was believed to be in leaving behind numerous bodies of mages and templars alike in the grassy clearing where they were ambushed. Making their way down a well-worn dirt trail through the heavily forested area, the various members of the party ended up lost in their own thoughts as they wondered what type of person this apostate would end up being.

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A few miles ahead of the Inquisitor's searching party, a group of 3 men and 1 woman were standing in a close circle whispering to each other as they observed a small cottage down the hill from them. Surrounded by fenced off gardens of various different herbs and vegetables, the home looked incredibly cozy and peaceful with it's simple design and chimney letting out lazy wisps of smoke to drift off into the canopy of the forest. A nearby stream gently burbled as it ran by the cottage and a doe could be seen drinking some of the water as it wandered by it.

In stark contrast to the almost fairy tale-esque setting and surroundings, the individuals watching it were incredibly out of place. Covered in a variety of grime covered clothing, scars, and dirt, the group was not good news for the inhabitants. Two of the men carried wicked looking daggers that had enough nicks and dried blood on them to clearly be well used, another had a hunting bow with a sheath of arrows on his back, and finally the woman carried a bastard sword that was practically as tall as her torso in a scabbard to her left side.

"Are you sure about this Beth? I've heard he's an apostate… what if we sets us on fire or somethin'?" nervously questioned a mousy looking boy as he shakily tapped a pattern on the hilt of his dagger.

The woman in question just snorted at the query before smacking him on the side of the head. "First off, you don't get to question me you little shit. I'm in charge here and what I say goes. If I tell you to charge a mage naked with nothing but your bare hands then you'll do it. Second, he's just some fuckin' pansy healer. Derrick was checking the place out last week to do some recon. Apparently he's only about as big as you and he's prettier than an Orlesian noble. Probably just some pampered kid who doesn't know shit about combat magic or _real_ fighting." At this, the scarred woman spit on the ground next to her. The others knew very well by now how cowardly and weak she though mages were since they couldn't keep up physically. "It'll be easy pickings. We just go in, gut him, and take everything he's got. Who knows, maybe if he's as pretty as Derrick says you three can even have some fun with him first."

"O-okay," the boy stuttered as he glanced over at Derrick and John, wincing as they leered at each other. He knew that the 2 other men were sick but hadn't known just how bad until now. Not for the first time he wondered why he'd ever considered joining up with the group, but he rationalized that he wasn't strong enough to survive on his own with the chaos that the country was in. So for now he was stuck as little better than a slave or cannon fodder for Beth's group until it was safer to leave.

"We good t' go Beth? I'm getting bored up here, ain't killed anything in days now and our pockets are empty."

"Fuck it, why not. Not one person has come or gone for days. Time for some fun boys." Beth almost snarled with a feral grin as she pictured putting another uppity mage in their place. "Fan out so he can't run."

The group then spread out carefully around the cottage on all 4 sides before making their way down into the clearing. Luck appeared to be on their side for once as there was no sign of movement from inside and no shouts of alarm came. Meeting up by the only door in front again, Beth counted down silently from 3 before bursting in the door with Derrick and John close behind her. The mousy young man hesitantly followed from behind holding his dagger in shaky hands and praying to the Maker that he wasn't home or that he could hopefully make the poor mage's death painless at least. Nobody deserved what John or Derrick did to their victims.

When he got inside of the house, his hope for the easiest route evaporated immediately. The owner was here, and staring down the intruders with a serene look on his face as though he had been expecting the four of them. John's bow had an arrow knocked and pointed right at the man's head, Derrick had his knife in a reverse pickaxe grip ready to move at a moments notice, and Beth was brandishing her sword as though it weighed nothing. Closing his eyes and asking for forgiveness for what would inevitably happen next, his attention was brought back to the present as the mage asked in a mild tone, "So do you four need healing? There's no need for weapons I do my work for free." As the boy opened his eyes and looked at the apostate with an incredulous expression he finally took in the details of their target and froze.

The man was beautiful to put it quite simply. Tussled, raven-black hair sat atop a lean, almost feline face. High cheekbones, pale complexion, and full lips made the boy think of stories he had heard from his parents growing up in their poor home about princes and nobles that he would never interact with in his life. The only real flaw on the noble's (for what else could he be?) face was a small and faded scar on the forehead in the shape of a lightning bolt. The man's eyes seemed to entrap him, staring into pools of green so bright it almost looked as though they were glowing with an unearthly light. Tearing his gaze away from those captivating eyes with a shake of his head, the boy took in the man's clothing as well. A sleek, form fitting leather ensemble highlighted a wiry and agile looking frame that spoke of speed and grace rather than muscles or pure power.

He was drawn out of his thoughts all too soon however by Derrick's sick sounding snickering. "No, we don't need none of that now. We'll be needin' everything ya' got that's worth anything, and then we'll be taking you too if you catch my meaning pretty boy." The bandit leered at their target as he brandished his knife to let the mage know he means business.

"Ah, and I don't suppose I could convince you not to do this? I don't have money and it would be quite dangerous for you to try and damage my home. If you walk away now we could just forget this happened."

Hearing this, Beth gave a humorless laugh and held her sword up higher. "Nice bluff, but I don't think so. You're clearly a noble of some sort and well off if you don't have to charge the people you heal. Plus you don't even have your little staff here to help you avoid a fight. Dangerous my ass, you're helpless. Now tell us where you keep your gold and I'll consider making it quick so you don't suffer too much. Make this difficult and we'll keep you alive for hours."

Raising an eyebrow at the threats, the mage quickly looked at the others for a few moments as though there would be any salvation coming from them. His gaze lingered on the mousy boy for longer than the others before letting out an almost annoyed sounding sigh.

"Very well. I choose the hard way."

Immediately after this statement his hands seemed to move almost in a blur as they dove down to his sides and whipped out two long daggers and darting forwards into the midst of the trio in front. His movements were almost too fast to track for the untrained boy in the back as he brutally put down the others in a deadly dance of steel and fury. Taking advantage of the sheer shock that the idea of a mage getting into close combat caused his opponents, he hamstrung Derrick in mere moments before darting behind Beth to prevent John's bow from causing him problems. Fainting a stab to the large woman's side, the moment she committed to blocking it his other hand struck out like a viper for her unprotected neck and tore through it in a spray of blood. As she collapsed to her knees with both hands wrapped around her neck futilely trying to stop up the fatal wound, he ducked underneath the arrow from John with almost unnatural grace and threw one of the daggers in the blink of an eye. As it buried itself in the man's eye and he collapsed, the boy watching from the entrance realized his pants were now warm and wet as he pissed himself out of fear.

"W-what th' fuck kind of monster are you..?" stammered Derrick as the mage turned around and stalked over to him with catlike grace. Eyes wide and nearly unseeing due to terror, the bandit tried to slide back away from the predator only to stifle a sob as he realized the damage done to his hamstring and his inability to walk.

"Monster?" the man questioned, still with that mild tone that was more frightening than anger could ever be. "Weren't you going to make me suffer for hours as you and your friend over there took turns with me? Now that's something I'd call monstrous."

"Please please Maker just let me live I'm sorry I'll leave and never come back. I'll give you whatever you want." begged the crippled man as the reality of his situation and how easily he'd dispatched his companions sunk in.

"Mercy? Now where was your mercy for the young women you violated and then killed?" At this, his eyes hardened and if looks could kill then Derrick would have already joined John and Beth in death. "I know the truth about you, I can see what type of soul you have. You're a disgusting little wretch with no redeeming qualities who preys on the weak but begs for protection from the strong. You'll find no mercy here from me and none in the afterlife."

As the boy watched in muted horror, the mage that was meant to be an easy target brandished his remaining dagger and slowly pushed it through Derrick's forehead and into his brain. As the bandit collapsed backwards dead with a gurgle upon pulling it out, the mage went over to John and removed the other one from his eye before wiping them down with a spare cloth from the nearby table and sheathing them. Then he turned towards the last other living person in the room.

"What's your name?"

"T-t-timothy, m-my Lord."

"None of that now, I'm no lord. Just a simple healer protecting himself and his home from bandits. Now put that knife away before you hurt yourself."

Blinking back his tears, Timothy looked down at the small blade clenched between both shaking hands tightly enough to turn his fingers white before dropping it to the ground with a numb sense of resignation.

"Are you gonna k-kill me now my Lord?"

The question seemed to catch the man off guard, and he raised both eyebrows in surprise as he turned back. "No. Do you want me to? And I'm not your Lord." Nodding in agreement as Timothy did his best to stutter out a 'no' and 'thank you' at the same time, the man simply said, "I can see what kind of person you are. You didn't come in here to commit violence, you came because you had no choice. I'm not going to kill you. Now, it would probably be best for you to leave and find some better company to keep in the future."

As Timothy turned around and stumbled over his feet in his haste to get away from the cottage filled with death, the man gave an exasperated sigh as he looked over the bodies littering his floor before muttering to himself, "Well fuck, this is gonna be a hassle to clean up. Nobody is going to be comfortable going to a healer with bodies and blood everywhere in his home. What I wouldn't give to be able to use a simple banishing charm..." Continuing to grumble under his breath as he began the task of cleaning by picking up the first body with a grunt, the man then sharply turned towards the north side of his home. "Oh Maker damnit, who is it now?"

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As the Inquisitor's party of 4 got closer and closer to the reported location of the apostate's home, all members of the group started to keep an eye out in various directions as well as slow their pace. There was no way of telling whether there were traps or other types of danger nearby if they rushed after all. As they cautiously approached the small column of smoke rising up above the trees ahead of them, the Inquisitor suddenly held up a hand and hissed for them to stop.

"There's a group here, looks like four people. Three of them are traveling light but the last is either much larger or heavily armored according to the tracks approaching the place."

"Ah," blinked Dorian in surprise. "I didn't know you were adept at reading your surroundings like that."

"Of course, I used to be a hunter for my clan. I had to be able to track prey for food if we wanted to feed the clan. I obviously wasn't the only one, but I _was_ one of the best." The Inquisitor smirked as she took the chance to brag a little bit. In a world full of flashy magic and mountain sized armored knights it was nice to be appreciated sometimes for something like her tracking or archery.

"Do you know if they're friendly or not?" Cassandra questioned without taking her eyes away from scanning the dense foliage surrounding them. She refused to be caught flatfooted in the case of an ambush.

"How could I possibly know that Cass?" laughed the Inquisitor. "I can see tracks and infer size and numbers from them. I'm not a god."

As Varric and Dorian chuckled at her expense, Cassandra flushed a bit. She had no experience with hunting or tracking of any kind and didn't realize until after asking how ridiculous that would be. Still, she refused to dignify the hyenas (as she was now labeling the 2 laughing men in her head) with a response and simply nodded to the elf as they resumed their cautious walk forwards. Moments later however she and the rest of the party started in surprise as a young boy who looked no older than 16 ran around the corner towards them coming from the direction of the smoke. As the Inquisitor and Varric both instantly readied their bows and commanded him to stop, he froze and held both hands up above his head to show they were empty. The boy was clearly scared as his wide eyes darted in every direction and when the party realized he had no weapons on him they relaxed their posture and lowered their weapons.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry, kid?" Varric called out before wrinkling his nose as the acrid smell of urine wafted over upon getting closer to the stranger. "Uhhh, you also need some clean clothes. What happened?"

"N-nothing happened. Just an accident."

"Uh-huh, so you're just running for no reason, coated in urine, and clearly afraid from the direction of an apostate's home?" the dwarf replied, dry tone clearly conveying his disbelief. The rest of the group nodded along as they didn't believe him either. As the boy clearly flinched at the word apostate, Cassandra cut in.

"Did the mage hurt you or threaten you?" she asked, her opinion already lowering of a man who would scare a child like this.

"N-no more than I deserved." came the cryptic response. "L-look, you should probably just turn around. I don't think he likes visitors unless they're coming to him for help… and if you threaten him he'll kill you..."

At this Dorian's head shot up and his eyes narrowed. "I thought he was supposed to be a healer, not a battle mage. Could your intel be wrong Varric?"

"Nope, maybe he can fight too but everybody I've spoken to swears by him if you're in the area and need help. We'll just have to be on our guard in case he's not friendly though."

"Agreed." The Inquisitor chimed in. "One hostile mage shouldn't present _too_ much of a problem though. Not to be arrogant or anything but there are four of us and we've been handling mages, templars, wild animals, and demons all day. How do you guys suggest we approach this? All four of us coming at once in battle gear could spook him and force a fight we could avoid."

"Just keep our weapons sheathed and be tactful when we introduce ourselves." Cassandra looked pointedly at Dorian and Varric as she suggested how to go in. "I know the Inquisitor can be polite but if you two don't think you can manage it shut your mouths."

"I'll have you know that as scion of the house Pavus my etiquette is flawless when I so choose it. I simply don't waste my efforts and manners on common barbarians like you all down here." Dorian drawled with a haughty expression before his smile took the sting out of the words. "I promise to be good."

Varric just nodded briefly as well, sharing the sentiment. Despite oftentimes not using his manners or etiquette classes from his youth, his parents and by extension the Merchant's Guild back in Kirkwall had made damn sure he knew how to be polite and respectful during business. Personal feelings were not to get in the way of potential trade.

Timothy then cleared his throat nervously to get their attention back for the moment before asking, "Is it okay for me to leave now? I don't want to stay here any longer."

The Inquisitor sighed as she realized the poor boy was too scared of them to just take his leave without permission and waved her hand at him briefly. "Yes, you can leave. You didn't need our permission though, we weren't going to hold you here or anything." As the still nervous boy darted off and the group began moving again, she wondered just what in the Maker's name this apostate had done to terrify the kid so badly. Grimacing as she considered blood magic or demon summoning, the elf unconsciously gripped her bow harder. If that was the case they would put him down.

As they crested the hill and got their first look at the picturesque little cottage, she couldn't contain her gasp at just how beautiful it was. "Wow, now that's a gorgeous looking set-up, wouldn't you say?"

As Cassandra and Varric nodded in agreement, Dorian just frowned. "Sure it's pretty and all, but who would ever want to give up the convenience and modern comforts of a city for a backwater place like this? Surrounded by fighting and wild animals and whatnot."

"I certainly would, it almost reminds me of simpler times just living with clan Lavellan before the weight of the world fell into my hand. You city dwellers have no real appreciation for the wilds or nature. Plus it always stinks there and there's no privacy."

"I'd rather not sit here waiting for the two of you to hash out this argument for the fiftieth time if you don't mind," Cassandra groaned as she strode forward into the clearing. "Let us meet this mage and see what sort of a person he is and whether or not there is a place for him in the Inquisition."

The others looked at each other briefly before darting after her and grouping up once again. As they approached the cottage, a pleasantly accented voice called out to them a few meters from the front entrance. "If you're not here for healing I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I've had enough armed _guests_ for one day thank you very much."

None of them missed the scornful emphasis on the word 'guest' and paused at what they felt was a respectful distance from the home. Noticing that the others were looking to her to begin speaking as usual, the Inquisitor made a rude hand gesture that they just grinned at before taking a step forward and addressing the still unseen mage.

"We're just here to speak to you, we've heard good things about your healing magics and wanted to recruit you," the elf called out.

"Oh? So speaking is why you are all fully armed, and looking ready for combat. I was unaware that using tongues required weaponry these days. I'd like you to leave please. I'm not interested in joining some silly mercenary group."

"Have some respect," Cassandra cut in with an annoyed tone in her voice. "You are speaking to the leader of the Inquisition right now. We are no mercenary band, we seek to close the rift before more damage is done to the world or demons invade through the Fade."

"Enough Cassandra, let me handle this. He clearly doesn't know who we are and getting snippy with him won't convince him of our good intentions here. I appreciate the support though," the Inquisitor commanded. Turning back towards the home, she called out again, "Would you be willing to speak to us face to face? It feels strange talking to a building, no matter how beautiful it may be."

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting and bated breath, the door opened and young man came outside to face the group."Very well, say your piece so I can refuse and get on with my day."

As the Inquisitor began to explain the purpose of the Inquisition as well as their goal, Varric nudged Cassandra with a wicked grin on his face before pointing to Dorian. The Tevinter mage looked gobsmacked at the young man's appearance and was practically devouring him with his eyes as his mouth hung open slightly.

Quickly realizing how foolish he probably looked as he heard the Seeker's snort and looked over to see her and the dwarf laughing at him, he snapped his mouth shut and glared at them. "Oh do shut up you two, I was just expecting… not this," the man trailed off lamely in an embarrassed manner. Turning back to the unknown mage and Inquisitor, he began paying attention once again to the conversation happening.

"A massive tear in the Fade, you say? I suppose that would explain the demons prowling the areas nearby. I fail to see why you need _me_ for this though. If I'm understanding you correctly, you have a small army as well as some templars and mages. What would one man do?"

"There's no such thing as having too many healers around," the elf responded quickly. "We've heard wonderful things from the people in the area about you and your willingness to help anybody in need regardless of affiliation or race. That's an admirable thing, and you could do it on a larger scale while helping to save the world in the process."

"I suppose that it couldn't hurt to at least come see what your operation is like, at the very least then. Perhaps your Inquisition will impress me and I will stick around. Although I would have to ask that your mage behind you stop staring at me like a piece of meat before I consider traveling in his company," the man responded in a dry tone as he gave Dorian a pointed look.

Flushing slightly in embarrassment as he realized that the other man had seen his lapse in composure, he smacked Varric in the side of the head as the dwarf burst out laughing it his expense. Clearing his throat as he turned back toward the nameless apostate, he decided to try his best to make up for his earlier faux pas as he responded with his most charming smile. "I apologize for my behavior, I was simply surprised to find someone as...striking as you out here in the wilderness. I'm too used to encountering scarred beasts like my dwarven companion here in this country. You wouldn't appear out of place back in the courts and parties of Tevinter. My name is Dorian Pavus, may I ask for yours?"

Raising an eyebrow with a faint smile at the shameless flirting from the other mage, the man responded with that lilting accent, "My name is Harry Potter, it's a pleasure to meet you. And what might the rest of your names be?"

"Varric Tethras, at your service. Rogue, storyteller, and occasional unwelcome tagalong."

"Cassandra Pentaghast."

"Rania Lavellan, also known as the Inquisitor. Pleased to meet you. Now that introductions are out of the way, would you like any help packing for the journey back to Haven? We have enough provisions that you shouldn't need to bring food but water would be appreciated as well as your personal effects and such."

"No, that won't be necessary," replied Harry with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "However, could you give me some time to clean up some garbage from my living room to tidy the place up before I grab my things and we leave?"

"That shouldn't be a problem as long as it doesn't take too long," Rania nodded amicably. "Do you need any help?"

"No, just give me a few minutes."

With that, the young man turned around and headed back into the home. The waiting group could hear him bustling around and apparently gathering things as he traveled around the interior of the home until he eventually came back out wearing a different pair of clothing and boots that almost looked like black leather until one looked closely enough and noticed the material was actually some form of scales.

Dropping a well worn pack that was filled to the brim as their feet, he turned back and called over his shoulder, "Now for the garbage disposal, just a few more moments please."

Nodding once again patiently as they waited, the group let out a collective gasp as he came out once more with a dead woman slung over his shoulders. Watching in a stunned silence as the mild mannered man walked the corpse over to a fire pit far away from the home and dumped it in, the Inquisitor was the first to regain her senses and blurted out, "This is the _garbage_ you were talking about? What the fuck do you have bodies in your living room for? Are you a blood mage?"

At the words 'blood mage' the rest of the party visibly tensed as they waited for the response. No matter how seemingly nice Harry was, there would be no mercy for him if he was an abomination or murderous monster.

Visibly surprised by the question, Harry stopped and gave her a hard look before responding, "No, I am not a blood mage and these bodies aren't from some nefarious sacrifice. They were bandits who broke into my home not long ago in an attempt to rob, rape, and kill me. Not necessarily in that order. I defended myself and sent the last one running since he wasn't truly one of them. Just a lost kid who fell in with the wrong crowd. The only magic I use is my healing, thank you very much."

Hearing him call Timothy a kid made Varric raise his eyebrows as he relaxed at the reassurance of not needing to deal with a blood mage. "Don't you think you're a little young to be calling someone else kid, kid? You're what, maybe 19? And if you're not a battle mage how did you stop them?"

"I'm older than I look," Harry responded with a quiet snort as though laughing at a joke only he knew the punchline to and slipped both of his daggers out of the sheathes that the group had somehow not noticed down at his sides. "And I have these for close combat, I'm no helpless child." Sliding the daggers back into their sheathes, he repeated the earlier process and brought 2 more bodies out to the fire pit before crouching down before it with his back to the group and standing back up once they began to burn. Locking his home and then picking up his pack, he looked at the others with a quirked eyebrow, something that seemed like a common expression on the aristocratic face.

"Well? Let us begin the journey to Haven. We can get to know each other on the way."

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 **Author's Note: So after reading this probably the most common question that most of you will have is 'why didn't Harry use magic to deal with the bandits and clean up afterwards?'**

 **I don't want to write a completely overpowered Harry. His world's magic is so incredibly versatile compared to the only combat oriented magic of Thedas so I decided to make him a Rogue instead. I have no problem with stories where he blows away the enemies with ease and makes life for his allies infinitely easier with apparition or places larger on the inside but I don't want to write that. So daggers it is. I'll get into the why later on in the story, I promise.**

 **This story is going to be rated M for a reason. I'm not going to be shying away from adult themes, violence, or anything of the sort. I apologize to anybody this offends but at the end of the day it's my story. If I do end up writing anything in detail that I feel could trigger somebody I will place very obvious warnings before and after it ends so they know how far to skip ahead.**

 **Finally, while I don't know who I'm going to pair Harry up with at the moment, there's a decent chance it may be one of the male members of the Inquisition. I have no problem with homosexuality and don't mind writing it, but it may not go that way. It could be Leliana, it could be Iron Bull, it could be a spirit, or it could be nobody. Sorry if that turns you away from the story but it is what it is.**

 **If anybody is interested in being a beta for this, send me a message! While not having one isn't the end of the world it would be pretty helpful since reviewing my own stuff takes a really long time and I feel like I miss a lot of stuff that native English speakers wouldn't.**


	3. Chapter 3

**The Wandering Mage: Thedas**

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 **Chapter 3**

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The journey back towards the Inquisition's home base in Haven had been an uneventful one for the most part, as despite his claims of using the time to get to know each other better Harry had mostly been silent as he took in the ravaged lands they passed through. One peaceful farmland and woods had been changed into battlegrounds for bandits, templars, mages, and demons. In areas with heavier fighting, the bodies of the fallen were just strewn carelessly where they fell, and the stench of death and decay was eye watering. The group had somehow managed to avoid the constant fighting and ambushes they encountered on their way to meet their new companion, and all of them were grateful for the reprieve.

However, the peaceful journey could not last forever. As they approached Haven, the group stumbled onto a rift in mid formation. The party ground to a halt in order to prepare for the coming fight as Harry stared at the undulating green tear in the Fade with disgust.

"This… this should not be possible," murmured Harry as he took out a leather bound book from his pack and made a few quick notes or observations. "It is not natural, the Fade does not simply get to bleed through to the physical world like this. It makes me uncomfortable just being near it."

"Welcome to my life," replied Rania in a dry tone as she pulled out her bow and got ready for combat once more. Holding up her right hand, which now glowed and crackled with some sort of eldritch energy, she gestured to it. "This is so far the only success we've had in closing the rifts. While anybody can combat the demons and prevent them from spreading, the rift itself will not close without me there. It makes stalling tactics inefficient at best since I can't be everywhere at once."

"You will have to tell me the full story of how this began and how you did that to yourself when we reach Haven, but for now I will help you with these creatures so that we may be on our way."

"Erm… are you sure that's a wise idea?" Varric chimed in from the side. "Look, I get that you have your little butter knives but there's a huge difference between taking out a couple bandits and fighting for your life with demons. You should probably stay back and just heal us if we're injured. No time to look after a kid in combat." In spite of the man's assurances earlier, the dwarf just felt uncomfortable with having someone that looked so young fight alongside the party of veterans.

Harry let out a sharp laugh at the comment before responding, "I will forgive you for your ignorance when it comes to my fighting skill just this once Varric, see that it does not happen again. I've been told I'm impossible to kill before by much greater foes than a few shades and lesser demons like these. Do try to keep up with me."

Darting forward with Cassandra close behind as they moved into close combat range of the closest pairs of wraiths and shades, Rania, Varric, and Dorian began to rain arrows, bolts, and fire spells respectively down on the unprepared enemies. Taking care not to target the ones too close to Cassandra and Harry to avoid friendly fire, the first small wave of foes went down quickly and with ease.

"I'm not sure what all the fuss was about if clearing a rift is this sim...ah. I see," trailed off their newest companion as the green hole in reality began to writhe and shift before shooting out green bolts of energy in every direction. Wherever the bolts landed, the ground began to heave upwards with a crackling noise as even more shades appeared, this time accompanied by 2 terror demons. The new type of enemy tilted their heads for a moment as they took in their surroundings before letting out an ear splitting screech and diving into the ground.

Rolling backwards out of the way as the ground around him in a circle turned the same shade of green as the rift, Harry brandished both daggers as the foul creature shot up towards him. Avoiding the first swing of deadly looking claws, he rapidly countered and his blades turned into a metallic blur as they dove into the demon's flesh over and over. Wincing as it screeched again at a much closer distance from him and his ears started ringing softly, he threw himself backwards to avoid yet another swing.

" _It seems as though their greatest weapon is not physical speed or overwhelming strength, but fear from the though of having to fight a demon and that aura of terror that the unearthly sounds it makes can create. From a purely physical standpoint these things are not very intimidating without superior numbers to someone experienced with combat like myself. Stay nimble and aware and we'll be fine,"_

Harry thought to himself as he ducked one final time before seeing an opening to drive both blades into the demon's head as it overextended. After dashing forward and quickly dispatching 2 nearby wraiths with relative ease, he took a momentary glance around to see how the others were faring and if they needed help.

It only took a moment to see that he needn't have bothered. The close knit party of 4 was clearly experienced with the formula these rift fights seemed to follow and their teamwork was superb. Cassandra got in close to grab the attention of the terror demon and keep it occupied with her shield, sword, and heavy armor to keep her alive while the others took out the lesser threats quickly and efficiently. Once there was no danger of the Seeker being swarmed from all sides, they focused all of their considerable firepower on the terror demon and it only managed to withstand the assault for a few moments before falling with a loud cry and dissipating.

Making his way over to the Inquisitor's side calmly, he gave everybody a quick once-over to make sure that they were unharmed before addressing the lightly panting elf. "You all handled yourselves very well, I don't think you even need a healer for this type of fighting. Now, how do you close the rift?"

Rania snorted in an amused manner at the compliment to them, "No, that was an easy one. Usually the fighting is a bit harder than this with a wider variety of demons. The pride ones are particularly nasty to handle. And don't think I don't see you favoring your right side over there Cassandra, let Harry take a quick look at you."

"I am fine, it is just a bit of bruising. I have been in enough fights to know what it feels like when a bone is broken. Do not waste your energy on something like this," the Seeker replied stiffly.

"Nonsense," Harry butted in. "It takes almost no effort at all to soothe some light bruising and we're close to Haven anyways. Unless you're expecting a few hundred ambushes in the next couple of miles we'll be fine. I can already tell you're incredibly tough from that fight, you don't need to prove anything from me and there's no reason to hurt when you don't have to. Come here."

As the others quickly cleaned and sheathed their various weapons to get ready for the final leg of the trip, Harry approached the still grimacing Seeker and placed a hand over the dented portion of her armor. Muttering something under his breath that none of them managed to catch, both hands glowed a warm green color and Cassandra sighed in relief as her aches were healed.

"I still do not think that it was necessary, but thank you none the less."

"Ah, you know I _just_ realized that my chest is hurting from… something or another. Do you think you could run those hands all over me as well, Doctor?" Dorian smirked while throwing a wink at the other mage. "I think I need a full body exam."

Staring back completely unimpressed by the lame attempt at flirting, Harry just raised an eyebrow at the man, "Come now, you can do better than that. If that is your idea of being charming then I despair for your chances of every finding someone willing to put up with you."

As the others laughed at Dorian's pouting expression and began walking again, Harry hid his small smile by facing away from them. Despite enjoying the peace and quiet of his solitary life in the outskirts of the Hinterlands, there were definitely some perks to good company. The people he had met so far seemed pleasant and easy to get along with, Dorian's flirting aside, and he could only hope that the rest of the Inquisition agents he would meet would be the same.

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" _I suppose that getting along with everybody was a_ tad _too much to hope for,"_ Harry internally fumed while making sure to keep his external expression and body language completely calm and at ease. Introductions to the first two agents of the Inquisition he had met since arriving at Haven had gone well. Cullen seemed like a friendly, dependable, and competent commander if you put aside his slight bias against mages and Josephine was simply lovely. She was apparently the type of person who brought never ending cheer and energy to the Inquisition, and genuinely seemed interested in getting to know him at a later time when there was some downtime.

Then he met Vivienne.

Inquisitor Lavellan had been giving him the grand tour of their home base before introducing him to the rest of the members that usually accompanied her on field missions when they had run into the haughty looking Imperial Enchanter.

"Rania darling you simply _must_ find some way t – well hello. Who might you be, my dear?" the enchantress looked over Harry in an appraising manner. "I don't believe I have seen you around the camp before."

"My name is Harry Potter, the Inquisitor's party just returned from recruiting me in the Hinterlands so that this organization can have another healer around. May I ask who you are in return."

"My name is Vivienne, I'm the personal adviser and enchantress to Empress Celene. Do you mind if I ask where you learned your healing magic? I could provide some pointers depending on how in-depth your knowledge is."

"I learned on my own, and I am quite competent without external help although I thank you for offering."

As quickly as that brief sentence, Vivienne's entire demeanor changed. Gone was the polite if somewhat distant diplomacy, and instead a look of disgust came over her and she wrinkled her nose as if smelling something distinctly foul.

"I'm going to have to insist that you learn under me for some time then before we allow you to possibly accompany us on expeditions, darling. Improperly trained mages are a hazard, especially one as young as you most likely blundering his way through the basics of some mediocre minor healing. In my own experience, nothing is more deadly to a young mage than a lack of knowledge."

"No," came Harry's short and eloquent reply. "Do not let appearances fool you, I am far older than I look. I can say with confidence that I have been using magic for longer than you have been alive and need no tutoring. It was nice to meet you, but we must be on our way now. Lady Lavellan here was just showing me around the camp."

Rather than dropping the matter, Vivienne turned to Rania with an incredulous look on her face before gesturing rudely at Harry, "My dear you can't _possibly_ be considering letting some unknown mage who barely looks like he is out of his teens with no formal training in magic join us. He's an abomination or similar disaster just waiting to happen. I cannot allow th-"

Swiftly cutting the woman off, Rania narrowed her eyes at the rude behavior of the woman who was normally the epitome of politeness, "I'm willing to personally vouch for his skills as he helped Cassandra on the way back here. Additionally, you do _not_ command me or anybody in this organization. Whatever your position back in Orlais, you are now a member of the Inquisition. Member. Not leader. Who can and cannot join us is not up to you." Rania was unsure just why she felt so compelled to defend the newest member of their ragtag party from the verbal assault and demeaning, but did so regardless and was rewarded with a soft thanks from the man to her side.

Now glaring at the both of them, Vivienne clearly decided to leave this argument for another time as she turned around with a huff and strode away without so much as an apology to either of them. Calling back over her shoulder without looking she said, "On your head be the consequences then, my dear. Magic is dangerous, just as fire is dangerous. Anyone who forgets this truth gets burned. I'll be waiting to say 'I told you so' when this backfires."

"She reminds me of an old man I knew long, long ago when I was just a boy. He spoke with the same condescending tones, holier-than-thee attitude, and demeaning pet names for everybody," Harry commented mildly. "I do not think I will care very much for the company of this Grand Enchanter."

"I'm so sorry about that Harry, she's just a very rigid person with no tolerance for those who don't fit her mindset of being a proper mage. You either come from strict training or a circle, or you're a dangerous apostate at risk of possession any moment in her eyes. I'll do my best to keep you both separated during our missions if you'd like," offered Rania with a grimace.

"That shouldn't be necessary, although I appreciate the offer. I've had plenty of experience dealing with aggravating people in my time. I can act maturely around her regardless of how high she turns her nose up at me," Harry replied in a snarky tone.

Returning to the tour and introductions to anybody they ran into, Harry quickly memorized the layout of the camp as he was shown around. Admittedly it wasn't very difficult, but if it saved him time wandering around in the future then why not? One thing that bothered him about it however, was how difficult to defend the place would be in the event of an attack. While he was unaware of any true enemy that the Inquisition would have to face other than rift demons and roving bands of templars or mages, that did not mean that it could not happen in the future. If there was one thing he had learned in the eons that he had spent wandering through various worlds, it was that with his terrible luck he would inevitably be dragged into the middle of whatever war was being waged there.

Brought out of his thoughts with a start as his elven companion gently poked him in the side, he realized that they had swung back to the local tavern at some point after finishing the tour and he was face to face with a good majority of the remaining members of the Inquisition he had not been introduced to yet.

Iron Bull, and by extension his Charger's, were loud and boisterous as they drank and shouted out their introductions to him. They would be easy enough to be around once he had proven himself to them in battle, Harry assumed. Sera was… interesting, to say the least. His time here wouldn't be boring it seemed if her prank loving, irreverent nature was anything to go by. He didn't know what to do about Blackwall though. Having known the Grey Warden in passing from when Harry had briefly involved himself in the fight against the Fifth Blight, this man sitting in the tavern with a grave expression on his face was an impostor. However, he did not seem like a bad man, and when the others regaled him with stories of him guarding their backs and fighting like an immovable mountain alongside them he decided to speak to the man before just outing him to the rest of the group.

Motioning with his head to the door as the others got distracted by a game of cards starting up at the main table, Harry stepped outside and patiently waited for the stocky man to come out. A few moments later when the 'warden' joined him outside, Harry looked around briefly to make sure nobody was in earshot before turning back and addressing his companion.

"Who are you and what is your purpose here? I met the real Warden Blackwall years ago when I was helping drive back the Fifth Blight, and you are not him," Harry began in a very matter of fact way while crossing his arms. He watched as the man's face suddenly paled and lost all color with a look of horror before closing his eyes.

"Maker's balls boy, _please_ don't say that where anybody can hear you. Follow me?"

Deciding to see how this would play out and remaining unconcerned about the possibility of an ambush in a secluded place to keep his secret, Harry followed along quickly as 'Blackwall' led him away from any possible eavesdropping spots near the tavern. Once he appeared content with their distance from anybody else in the Inquisition, he turned back to Harry with a severe frown on his face before wringing his hands a few times as though unsure where to begin.

"Look… I know that I'm not Blackwall. My real name is unimportant though. I used to be nothing more than a petty criminal in the past. I'm not proud of it, but it's who I was at the time. Then, the _real_ Blackwall stumbled upon me and recruited me to the Wardens. He was… amazing. A man of honor and sacrifice, who didn't hesitate to put his life on the line to protect the innocent. He was everything I wished that I could be, and he died to defend me from a darkspawn attack on the way to Val Chevin for my initiation. I'm not using his name to try and hide from my past or to trick people into thinking I'm some paragon of righteousness. I just had no proof of my recruitment and was worried people may think I killed him. So I took up his name in the hopes that I could one day become half the man that he was in life."

Harry raised both eyebrows in surprise at the almost outlandish tale and pure fervor in 'Blackwall's' eyes and voice as he explained. The man was clearly passionate about his admiration for the real warden, and the desire to be a better person than he was once wasn't something that Harry could truly fault him for. Mulling it over in his head for a few more moments, he came to a decision.

"Very well, I won't tell people the truth about you. You don't seem like a bad person and the others seem to have nothing but admiration for your fighting skills and personality. You should consider coming clean with them yourself at some point though. This kind of thing being revealed at a bad time could cause chaos when the Inquisition finds out."

Blackwall let out a heavy sigh of relief upon hearing this before quickly shaking his head, "I know there is wisdom in your words but I just can't yet. Perhaps after we close the rift and end this madness I shall confess but until then the idea of having a Grey Warden backing the Inquisition could prove to be too valuable to throw away." Pausing as though he had just realized something, Blackwall seemed to reassess the slender young man in front of him. "How could you have possibly known the original Blackwall during the blight though? You would have been just a child at the time, far too young to be fighting."

Grinning as the man proved to have more observational and deductive skills than some average fighting grunt, Harry replied, "You'll find that appearances can be deceiving sometimes. I am _far_ older than I look."

Scrutinizing the mage opposite him once more, Blackwall eventually responded, "Fair enough. I don't mind you having your own secrets if you'll keep mine. I owe you for not immediately outing me to the others when you heard my name anyways. I'm not sure I would have been able to do the same. You're a good man, Harry Potter."

"Well I don't know about that last bit of nonsense," Harry chuckled, "I'm just a man who does his best to help. Much like you. Now how about we head back to that warm tavern for a few drinks and good company?"

"I'd like that very much."

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The next morning began with Harry peacefully watching the sunrise from his position up on the roof of the Chantry. Blasphemous? Possibly, but it had the best view in the entire valley and gave him the serenity and quiet atmosphere to truly appreciate the beauty of nature. The sun rose above the distant peaks almost like a flower blooming into the spring, each ray of pale light a petal of warmth and life blessed upon the earth. The Inquisitor came up behind him and took the time to join him for a few minutes, watching the clouds illuminate further with each passing moment.

"Wow, that's really something, isn't it?" Rania said, smiling gently as she enjoyed the peaceful activity.

"Yes."

And with that the two continued to sit in silence for the next half hour. Eventually, however, duty called.

"As enjoyable as this is Harry, I came up here to grab you for a council meeting. Leliana, our Spymaster, is returning from her recent trip to keep up with a possible lead on finding the Hero of Ferelden. Hopefully she succeeds. We could use the support he could bring to the Inquisition and inspiration to our soldiers."

Quirking a brow at his companion, he repeated her words in disbelief. "Grab me for a council meeting? Do you make a habit of inviting brand new members of your band of merry misfits to important gatherings like that? What input could you possibly need from me?"

The elf just shrugged in response with a grin. "Who knows? Maybe a fresh face is just what we need. Besides, isn't it your duty to obey the _Herald of Andraste_?" Her tone clearly conveyed her disdain for the title and Harry smirked in response.

"Not a fan of fancy titles then? I won't lie, I despise them as well. I've been cursed with far too many in my years."

"Not a fan at all, no. And you realize that eventually my curiosity will get the best of me and I'll start nagging you to hear your story. For someone so young looking you claim many things that a more skeptical woman might call impossible."

Humming in a noncommittal manner, Harry hopped up from his spot and carefully made his way to the back of the building and the ladder he had place to get up on the roof. Politely waiting for Rania to make her way down as well, he then followed her towards the inner sanctum of the Chantry where he could faintly hear voices through the thick wooden doors.

"Leliana… now where do I know that name from?" He wondered to himself as they approached their destination and pushed the doors open, letting the Inquisitor enter the room first.

"How should I know? Maybe she's your long lost lover? And don't think that topic change is going to get you out of answering my questions eventually," Rania laughed as she made her way into the chamber.

Shrugging to himself as he decided he would find out soon enough, Harry took a seat by the entrance of the room as got comfortable before looking around. Standing behind a massive oak table with a map of the surrounding lands on it were Cullen, Josephine, Cassandra, and a red-headed woman that made his blood freeze the moment he laid eyes on her.

" _Oh no. Please don't recognize me."_

"You!"

"Well fuck."

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 **Author's Note: Let me know what you all think of my writing style as this goes on in reviews or PMs if you don't mind! This is my first attempt at making an idea floating around in my head come to life, so constructive criticism is always appreciated. I've been told my fight scenes are not my best work, so I'll be looking to make them more fluid in the future or possibly just shorter if I can't seem to get it down.**


	4. Chapter 4

**The Wandering Mage: Thedas**

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 **Chapter 4**

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"You!"

"Well fuck."

Harry stood quickly and gave a quick bow to the Inquisitor while Leliana paled and stared at him as though she was looking at a ghost and the others in the room just turned to each other in confusion.

"Apologies my Lady, but I believe it would be best if I left now. Good luck with your council, I will go… find someone to heal or something," Harry said as he moved towards the door. "There must be something around this camp I can do for a while." Right as he began to pull it open, however, the red-head seemed to finally find her voice again.

"Harry…? That cannot possibly be you. What in the Maker's name is going on?"

The others in the room just watched and waited with a morbid sense of curiosity. How did they know each other? Why was Harry attempting to run away? And possibly most important, why was just the sight of him enough to make the usually confident and self-assured Spymaster speak in such a hesitant and even lost voice?

Pausing at the door and staring straight up with a resigned expression and bitter smile, he did not turn around as he responded, "Yes, it _can_ possibly be me. And you really don't want me to answer that question. You will not like the answers you get Lily."

Raising an eyebrow at the clearly affectionate nickname that was so at odds with his tone and words, Rania shrugged at the questioning looks from the others and turned towards her Spymaster as the lost and confused expression quickly turned to anger. She knew no more about what was going on than they did.

"How can you even say that?" Leliana nearly snarled as her anger caused her accent to thicken and color her words. "We all thought you were _dead._ We mourned you! Your name is on the monument to those that fell to the Fifth Blight. When I last saw you, you had lost an eye, an arm, had a dagger buried in your stomach, and were holding off a horde of darkspawn so that the rest of the group could escape. Now you walk in here like none of it happened, completely whole and saying I do not deserve answers?"

Letting out a horrified gasp at Leliana's description of the past, the silent bystanders to the apparent reunion between previous traveling companions stared at the silent figure in the door in a mixture of awe, concern, and confusion. From how the furious Nightingale was describing the event, there was no possible way for the man to be standing in front of them at all, much less completely uninjured. Waiting with bated breath for his response, the room almost jumped as he whirled around and stalked back to the war table with all the lithe grace of a predator.

"I never said you don't _deserve_ the answers that I will give, I said that you do not _want_ them. You haven't got the faintest clue what you are asking for at the moment, little girl," he glared at the woman opposite of his position.

"That is _not_ for you to decide, Harry. I'm not the little naive bard that you once knew, following you and Aeden around like a lost puppy hanging onto your every word. I'm a grown woman who was forced to mourn the supposed death of my best friend only to find out he's fine and just doesn't care enough to contact me anymore."

"Aedan?" Rania whispered to Cassandra at her side, not able to place the name.

"Hero of Ferelden," was the brief response.

" _Will the surprises surrounding him never end?"_ she thought incredulously to herself as she absorbed that information. How had she never heard of him being a member of the now famous group? It seemed like information that would have been relevant to know when recruiting him. Looking back to the arguing pair once more, she winced as it seemed to escalate further.

"You'll find that it is incredibly difficult to get information out of me that I do not wish to share," Harry promised in a tone as frigid as the coldest of winters. "What will you do when I refuse? Will you have me dragged to the dungeons below the building and attempt to interrogate it out of me? And what would you do if you _did_ manage to get the knowledge you seek and could not handle it? If your entire world view was shaken and everything you thought you knew crumbled? What then? It is not your burden to bare."

Apparently frozen in place and unable to respond at the sheer fury and hint of bitterness in her old friend's voice, Leliana just stared at him for a few moments with her lips parted as she tried to think up an appropriate response to his words. However, she took too long as suddenly the man across from her scoffed and turned around. Lost in thought as she did her best to process the harsh words from a man she once thought she knew, she almost missed his parting words.

"That's what I thought. See you around Lily."

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Cursing his luck more than usual, Harry stormed away from the Chantry building to the outskirts of the camp where less people would be present to potentially bother him.

" _Of fucking course someone who knew me from back during the Blight would be present at the Inquisition, why would things ever be easy? Not only that, she's a core member and unavoidable if she truly wishes to be. Now the others will ask questions that I really don't wish to answer."_

Lost in thought as he was, he barely registered the fact that he had exited the main gates already and was headed out towards the actual wilderness. Stopping suddenly as a mountain of muscle placed itself in his path, Harry took a deep breath with his eyes closed in an attempt to calm down before looking up at Iron Bull.

"Yes?" He nearly spat out before regretting his temper and tone somewhat. Bull had nothing to do with the situation and didn't deserve that. Before he could formulate his thoughts and apologize, however, the much larger man was already speaking.

"No need for that, I was just going to see where you were headed in such a state. Care to share? Need any help?"

"I… yes. You're right, you have done nothing to deserve my anger. I apologize. And I just learned that someone I was close to in the past is here at the Inquisition. If I know her, and I'd like to think I do, she will give me no peace now until I answer questions I would rather avoid," he sighed in a weary voice while rubbing the bridge of his nose.

Bull nodded in a sagely way, looking up as he mused to himself, "Ah, a previous lover? Well I can see how that would be awkward.

"No," Harry snorted at the incorrect assumption, "We were never together romantically. Her heart belonged solely to another. We traveled together for a while though and became very close. I'd like to think I played at least a small part in her growth from a naive young woman of the Chantry to the person she is today."

"Well I suppose I won't pry then, your business is your business," was the easy reply from the friendly Qunari as he began to turn away. "Hopefully you manage to sort it all out."

Suddenly, a thought struck Harry like a lightning bolt and he quickly said, "Wait, if that offer to help was sincere, there _is_ a way you can help me out Bull. You can't solve the problem, but you can help me unwind a bit."

"Sure thing, what do you need?"

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" _Well that was a pretty good waste of time, we accomplished almost nothing,"_ Rania mentally grumbled to herself as she left the Chantry building some time later. The normally focused Leliana had been out of it for the entire meeting, absently nodding along to whatever the other advisers present had been saying. While initially funny to watch the Spymaster 'agree' to mandatory cavity searches twice a day and similar nonsensical suggestions, it quickly became apparent that nothing much would be getting done without arguably the most important member of the Inquisition's leadership not participating or sharing information. Hopefully she would be back on task tomorrow and not focused on Harry when they reconvened.

While on that particular topic she then decided to go out and find the enigmatic newcomer to the Inquisition. Not to sound arrogant, but as the de facto current leader of their merry group of misfits trying to save the word it was partly her job to make sure there would be no problems among her traveling companions that could jeopardize the mission of sealing the Breach. So clearly it fell to her to get answers from Harry about just what he was hiding and what his relationship with Leliana had been.

" _For the good of the Inquisition, of course. Not because I'm insanely curious and want to be the first to figure out how he ticks. Not at all… well maybe just a_ little _bit."_

Setting out in the direction of his… wait a moment. Just where did the man stay when he was relaxing or asleep? Pausing for a moment and scrunching her face up in confusion, Rania realized she had never actually bothered to figure it out. Despite him only having been with them a few days it was no excuse to just ignore him like that.

" _Someone must know, he has to sleep somewhere and have a place to unwind. One of the others must have figured it out. Maybe Dorian, he's made no secret of his attraction."_

Mood lightening once more as she silently pledged to herself to pay more attention to him in the future and be a better host, she made her way over to Dorian's usual spot behind the Apothecary. It was sad to think about, but she understood very well why he stayed in such an out of the way location. Despite having helped immensely out in the field and giving them the intel about Alexius' time manipulations that they would be acting on soon, the average Inquisition member just didn't trust a Tevinter mage. When she first learned of the rude mutterings and unfair treatment to the man who had been nothing but helpful she had wanted to crack down on it and publicly punish those who had done it. Dorian had talked her out of it though, it wasn't wise to potentially lose the trust of the common soldier that made up the bulk of the Inquisition's forces. Additionally, there were just too many people that did it. None of this made it less of a bitter pill to swallow, but Rania knew that there were battles you just couldn't win. They would be forced to see the truth when Dorian hopefully helped to seal the Breach, but until then nothing could really be done.

A few moments later she found herself frowning again as she reached the usual spot to find him and he wasn't there. Perhaps the tavern instead then? Looking around for a minute as though he was hiding behind a barrel and would pop out at any moment, she turned to leave when Adan's voice cut through the frigid mountain air.

"If you're looking for Dorian he's not here right now. Probably down outside the gates with the others watching the show," called out the normally grouchy man.

"Show? What show?"

"Now that would be telling," smirked the Alchemist. "Just go down for yourself and figure it out, Herald."

"You know, for someone know as the _Herald of Andraste_ I certainly don't get enough respect from my peons around this camp," she groused at the man with a little smirk to show that she wasn't truly offended. "Thanks though."

Adan just turned back to his Apothecary and headed inside with a little wave over the shoulder to signify the end of the conversation as Rania set off once more, intensely curious about what kind of show was going on. Perhaps Josephine had set up some kind of competition or performer to raise the morale of the troops? Whatever it was must be pretty impressive to draw Dorian out of his self-imposed exile and into the distrustful crowds.

Approaching the main gates leading into the camp, her sensitive ears started to pick up the sounds of cheering, loud conversations, and… was someone fighting? Growing closer and closer the sounds of flesh impacting against flesh and grunting soon became unmistakable. Abruptly she flushed red and stumbled as she realized another reason two people might be making those noises before guiltily glancing around as if someone nearby might have been reading her mind.

" _Get your thoughts out of the gutter, that wouldn't be happening around here out in the open. Although it_ would _explain why this crowd would gather and be so entertained over here."_

The crowd in question was by no means massive, but considering the Herald's small elven frame she had significant problems with trying to see what was going on. Jumping was so undignified that it wasn't even an option, so Rania began pushing her way through the grouped up soldiers with some difficulty until she reached the center of the onlookers and froze at what she was witnessing.

Her initial guess of a fight had been mostly correct it seemed, because in the center of a roughly ten foot clearing in the middle of the crowd were Iron Bull and Harry engaging in a hand to hand combat spar. Despite the nearly freezing temperatures of Haven's location in the Frostback Mountains, neither fighter wore a shirt and their breath frosted in front of their faces as they slowly circled each other looking for an opening to continue. Suddenly she understood what Adan had meant by calling it a show; there were quite a few women and the occasional man in the crowd that seemed to be watching a bit more intently than the others, eyes hooded and darkened slightly as they enjoyed the half naked men clashing over and over.

" _Not that I can really blame them,"_ Rania mentally fanned herself as she really took the time to look at both participants. Iron Bull's figure was no surprise, practically everybody had seen him shirtless before since his usual attire didn't really cover his torso. Powerful expanses of muscle rippled and glistened with sweat as he continued to move, bulging and clearly built with time and dedication for overwhelming strength and massive weapons. Each bicep was practically as big as her head and he looked like he could rip a man in half with no effort but despite his huge size he still managed to move far quicker than you would expect.

Harry, on the other hand, had the kind of swimmer's build that excelled in pure speed. Lean and well-defined, he clearly did not fall prey to a relatively common mistake of the typical mage and neglect his physical fitness. Even though he was barely half the size of Iron Bull, nobody who saw him right now would be able to make the mistake of thinking he wasn't just as dangerous of a predator. What his lean frame lacked in pure power and muscle mass, Harry made up for with finesse and lightning fast reflexes. He moved with a fluidity that a larger person like Bull couldn't hope to match on their best day, not a single movement or bit of energy wasted unless necessary.

"Quite the sight, isn't it?"

Startled out of her observations quite suddenly and coloring slightly as she realized she'd been staring at the two gorgeous specimens of the male form for far too long, she turned to the side and saw Dorian looking at her with a knowing smirk.

"No need to be embarrassed, my dear. I was in the exact same position you're in right now when I first got here, they _are_ quite pleasing to the eye if I may say so myself. It's a pity that they both seem to finally be losing a little steam and it will likely end soon, there is so little in the ways of good entertainment down here in the rustic lands of the south."

Snorting a little at the grinning mage's usual comments on how barbaric they all were and his open admittance of ogling the pair fighting, she relaxed and turned a critical eye back towards the fight rather than the participants this time.

Dorian was correct, Rania quickly realized. While neither combatant looked ready to stop just yet, the signs were clear to anybody experienced with fighting experience. Iron Bull's skin was slowly beginning to darken in countless small areas over his body as bruises formed and his chest heaved with exertion as though he had recently sprinted a mile nonstop. That wasn't to say that Harry was spotless by any means though. The smaller man was beginning to noticeably slow down just a hair as they continued, his left leg was starting to show a limp, and he was favoring his ribs heavily after a solid punch from Bull connected with a crack. Thanks to his speed and fluidity, Harry landed five or six hits for each one that his opponent did but the sheer damage of those heavy strikes from Bull seemed to be too much for him at the moment.

Finally, it happened. Harry was just a touch too slow in moving out of the way when Bull suddenly dove forward for a grapple and got caught. Immediately wrapping up his opponent in a form of headlock that left no real options for escape without somehow overpowering the Qunari, Bull tightened the grip slightly as his opponent tried to struggle.

"Yield, it's over Harry," he panted.

Muffled curses could be faintly heard as the man in question struggled for a few moments before going limp and tapping the huge arm holding him. As he was released and stumbled before straightening up, various onlookers from the crowd groaned or cheered as money was exchanged and swapped hands. As Rania hid a smile behind her hand and Dorian openly chuckled at the people cursing the outcome, they realized that the betting seemed to be relatively evenly distributed and more people had bet on the smaller underdog than would normally be expected for a purely physical fight.

Slowly but surely the crowd began to disperse and thin out as everybody saw there would be no immediate encore, and Rania made her way over to the two that had caused such a scene with Dorian close behind. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed Vivienne watching with a small sneer on her face as though such a boorish physical display was beneath her before turning and leaving. Shaking her head with a sigh at the snobbish woman's actions towards their newest member, the arrival next to the two men as well as Varric showing up forced her to put it to the back of her mind for now and focus on the conversation.

"While you're very quick and skilled Harry, I don't see why this would change my mind about you fighting up on the front lines with your size," Varric was saying with a small hand gesture to his injuries. "Not to be rude, but you're completely busted up while the big guy here is just winded and bruised. Our healers need to stay safe in the back to be available for us if needed, not smashed to pieces by larger fighters."

Before the healer in question could respond, Iron Bull surprised them by immediately jumping to his defense.

"No, you missed the point Varric. I won, sure, but this fight was _unarmed._ "

"What difference does that make?" Varric questioned in confusion while Harry wordlessly nodded in agreement to the side.

"Because weapons make all the difference in the world," Bull elaborated with a patient tone. "Using only fists I got bruised at worst, but normally he would have those daggers in his hand. At the beginning he got me nine or ten times in a row before I started adjusting to how fast he was and managing to get some pops back. Now assuming a couple of those would be turned aside by my armor that's still four or five times he stabs me before I touch him once. Instead of just being a little sore I would be openly wounded and bleeding, slowing me down and making it even less likely I get that first hit altogether."

Understanding dawned on the rogue's face as he listened to the Qunari's explanation before he turned to Harry again with a more appraising look on his face.

"Ah, well when explained like that… look, I'm sorry. I promise to not harass you anymore about this, you'd certainly demolish me in a fair fight. Doesn't mean I want to see you get brained by somebody that gets in one lucky hit with a broadsword though"

"Why waste time fighting fair," Harry chuckled in response as he waved away the apology. "Fighting isn't like a spar. Cheat and play dirty all you want if it means you survive and your opponent doesn't. No need to apologize though, you were just concerned and I get that. I really am a good healer though, so there's nothing to worry about. I'm pretty tough to get rid of."

"Got that damn right," grumbled Bull in response to the last bit. "Little shit just doesn't know how to stay down. You got up after three hits I could have sworn would end the fight and kept going. This better not be a one time deal, you hear me? Best spar I've had since being sent here to Ferelden, I don't want to lose my edge."

"Sure thing Bull, I'll let you be my punching bag as often as you'd like within reason," smirked Harry in response. "Thanks for helping me unwind, I really needed that."

" _We_ really needed it as well," Dorian finally chimed in with his usual aristocratic drawl. "The lack of entertainment here is truly dreadful. Clearly the only solution is for the two of you to be shirtless far more often. Preferably around me."

"Oh hush Dorian, leave them alone." Rania laughed at the incessant flirting with seemingly anything with a pulse. "Although he does have a point about good entertainment, that fighting was incredible. Where did you learn that, Harry? I know Iron Bull learned his technique in Par Vollen but I don't recognize yours."

"Oh, here and there. Probably more there than here," was the blithe response given by the man in question along with a small grin as though he enjoyed being frustratingly vague.

"Fine then, be difficult," she shot back with a smile to let him know that she wasn't truly angry. "I'll figure out all your secrets eventually, just you wait."

Rather than deny her statement or give another vague non answer, Harry looked pensive and introspective for a few moments.

"Perhaps you will, you _do_ seem like the frustratingly persistent type. You and Leliana seem to have that in common, unfortunately," he said before perking up again. "However I live to be frustrating and obnoxious so you'll have to suffer failure for quite some time before getting there. Now, I'm going to disappear for a little bit to heal myself up. I'd rather not be coated in bruises for the next few days, so I'll see you all later."

Waving over his shoulder as the others said their goodbyes, Harry headed off in the direction of the abandoned cabin that apparently once belonged to a man called Taigen according to the medical notes located inside at the desk when he found it. The cabin was perfect for his needs as it was out of the way and not too many people knew about it, so after making sure that nobody was coming back to inhabit it he had decided to move in.

Making his way inside of the warm, fire lit room and locking the door shut behind him, he finally dropped down into the bed with a hiss of pain while he gripped his side. Bull had been correct in his assumption that some of the hits Harry had taken should have ended the fight, he had cracked at least two of the ribs on the left side.

" _Next time maybe take it a little easier, damn giant doesn't know his own strength."_

He felt a little bad about his abrupt departure from the others, but it had to happen that way unfortunately. While no stranger to severe pain by any means, his last few years of relaxation in the wilds of the Hinterlands had left him softer than he'd like and he didn't want to let the others know just how badly he was injured by mortal standards. They would insist on getting him another healer just in case the pain screwed with letting him fix it himself and then he'd be stuck in an awkward spot when forced to explain why conventional healing didn't work on him. It would appear that he'd need to rebuild his pain tolerance up at least a little bit, which the sparring with Bull would likely help with as long as it occurred regularly.

Suddenly, a spike of pain that Harry had become intimately familiar with over the countless centuries he had wandered flared up and he briefly gritted his teeth before it left just as quickly. It was an incredibly disconcerting situation to be able to feel the numerous shards of his shattered ribs knit themselves back together, but at least it didn't last long. The few cuts and scrapes he had accumulated during the fight sealed themselves as well while the bruises disappeared and his injured leg returned to peak condition.

While he knew he wouldn't be able to hide what he was forever, Harry had no intention of letting carelessness ruin his place here a moment sooner than it had to. Right now, he was just an eccentric mage who had quite a bit of skill with knives to the others. The moment they found out about just how different his curse made him, that sense of normality would be gone and he wasn't looking forward to it a single bit. There would be exactly four reactions, like there always were in every place he had been since his eternal journey began.

Fear would be the majority. Those who felt that he was a monster and a danger to everybody that he was around since he couldn't be killed or controlled. They would demand he be sent away with no rational thought as to how this would be accomplished if they couldn't harm him in the first place.

Awe would be the next largest group. Some would inevitably view him as a God and probably start a cult, while others wouldn't deify him but would expect him to solve all of their problems. Then, when he refused to be their guardian angel they would hate him for not living up to their expectations.

The next, and most dangerous in his opinion, would be those who would want to study him to figure out what made him tick and how to replicate it. No matter how many times he said it was not possible or that they weren't even in the original universe where it occurred, they would not listen. Their greedy minds would only focus on the word 'immortal' and would ignore all else. Then they would begin trying to capture him for study if he was stupid or careless enough to be caught. He shuddered in muted horror as brief memories of labs, dissections, and endless testing flashed before his eyes from the worlds where he had not succeeded in avoiding these types.

Finally, the smallest group of all, would be those who genuinely did not care and would still see him as a person. These were the people who helped preserve his sanity in every new universe, the main reason he did not truly give up on living and stopped trying. The only downside to this group of people was that he would eventually have to leave. No matter how short or long a lifespan their species had, he would outlast them. It was inevitable. Then he would have to bury them and move on once more to repeat the cycle. On days where he allowed himself to brood, he occasionally cursed them the most of anybody he encountered as strange as that sounded.

He had learned that the average person was just a sheep who would follow the loudest voice or the popular opinion no matter what before he had even turned 20 years old in his original world. From their point of view, he was an impossibility that they could think of no solution to, so they looked to others for how they should think or react. No matter how obnoxious they were, Harry did not hold this against them. It was simply the nature of things. But the people he grew close to, the ones he genuinely bonded with, could actually _hurt_ him like nothing else was able to anymore. Whether through betrayal, thoughtlessness, or simply dying like he never would be able to, they would eventually leave and he would be alone once again. This was the part of his curse that he hated the absolute most.

Shaking himself out of his morbid cynicism, he sighed before getting up and starting to fix himself some food. While he didn't need it anymore, he could still enjoy a well cooked meal and it was the little things that got him through the day. Sleep was the same way. His body could get as little as an hour of sleep a day and it would just power on, but he still enjoyed simply relaxing at times. The only times he would truly sleep were when his body was so damaged that it took extended periods of time to heal itself.

Belatedly realizing that he didn't have any food left that he had packed and brought from his home in the Hinterlands, he decided to just go to the tavern for some of their horrible food and alcohol that he couldn't get drunk on. It would be nice to just surround himself with people and lose himself in the conversations. Pretend to be normal for a while.

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 **Author's Note: I got my first flame review! I know it probably sounds weird to most of you but I've actually been looking forward to that since I decided to start trying to write this thing. Feels like an important milestone of becoming a writer on this site. As usual, let me know what you think about the writing style or story in general!**

 **Sorry if the scene in the War Room with Leliana and the chapter ending comes off as a little bit edgy on Harry's part, but it's just how I'm going to be writing him to a certain extent in this. He views his immortality as a curse for the most part, not a blessing, and it's going to show in how he acts when people find out about it and start to question him about it. I don't want to make him super angst ridden and depressed all the time though, so let me know if I'm taking it a little too far and I'll see if I can't improve.**

 **Additionally, sorry to those of you who like Vivienne, but I don't really care for her character and neither will Harry. I'll do my best to avoid all out bashing and turning her into a caricature of how she's written in the actual game but she just never really clicked with me and I need some kind of strife when it comes to the party members because everybody being happy and getting along all the time would be boring in my humble opinion. There will be at least one other that doesn't get along with Harry so that she isn't just constantly getting ganged up on, I promise.**


	5. Chapter 5

**The Wandering Mage: Thedas**

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 **Chapter 5**

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A woman's well worn leather boots soundlessly padded their way through the Inquisition camp, expertly avoiding the flickering harbors of light thrown up by torches to fend off the night's darkness. Able to seemingly blend right into shadows whenever necessary, she avoided the guard patrols and occasional drunken straggler making their way to bed with contemptuous ease. Carefully traversing the scarcely occupied paths, she slowly made her way towards the tavern. All of her previous reconnaissance pointed to her target being in there at this moment despite the late hour, and it was beyond time to finally make her move. She had wasted far too much time before attempting this as it was.

Arriving at her target's location, she slid up to one of the windows as stealthily as possible and chanced a glance at the insides of the tavern before ducking down again to avoid possible detection from anybody within the building. The woman mentally cursed as she registered the presence of her target sitting at a table with three others members of the Inquisition laughing at a story one was telling. This made things more complicated, there would be no chance for a clean shot with such close proximity to others as well as the drunken swaying of the target's companions. Collateral damage was not an acceptable outcome in this situation, and missing the first shot would warn the target of the danger they were in.

Biting her lip as she considered how to best handle the new obstacles in her path while discreetly keeping watch to make sure she was not happened upon by a guard, the woman sighed to herself as she came to the only viable conclusion. She would simply have to stake out the tavern until he left. The frigid mountain air was especially biting at night without a fire to keep warm with, but that was not an option if she wished to remain undiscovered.

Cursing once more, she stealthily made her way around to one side of the building before climbing up the side of the building in a fluid surge of motion and settling down low against the Singing Maiden's roof. Remaining completely still and counting on her dark clothing to camouflage her against the dark shingles, the familiar weight of her bow and quiver on her back were the only comforting sensation as she settled in for a potentially lengthy stakeout. Hopefully the target wouldn't take too much longer before leaving the safety of their trio of companions and left for bed.

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Some time later, inside of the Singing Maiden, Harry Potter finally decided that it was time to head back to his isolated cabin off in the nearby woods. While he didn't really need any sleep for quite a while, there was no sense in being here all night. Despite enjoying the warm atmosphere and friendly company, stories would eventually begin to spread if he was with people at all times of the day and never appeared to need rest like a normal living being. Besides, the tavern would be closing soon anyways and he didn't want to make Flissa's work tougher than it already was by staying too late. While they hadn't exactly spoken enough to be truly considered friends, the easy-going woman always had something nice to say or a smile to give and there were precious few people like that in the world already.

Swaying slightly as he stood up from the table to give the impression of being reasonably intoxicated after so much alcohol, he made sure to slur his words a bit as he said his goodbyes to the other three at the table. It had been a genuinely fun night thus far, just getting to know some of the less 'figure-head' members of the Inquisition over food and terrible drinks. Sure the Inquisitor and her closest companions and advisers made the important decisions on how the organization would act, but it was the regular soldiers and civilians supporting them who would pave the way and make it all possible. So Harry made sure to start getting to know some of them. Obviously he wasn't foolish enough to believe he'd become close with every single member of the vast organization, but it was still nice to spend time with a few.

Waving quickly to Flissa as he braced himself for the abrupt change of temperature upon leaving the tavern, Harry quickly stepped outside and visibly winced at the biting chill. "Bloody mountains," he grumbled under his breath. "Why couldn't the Breach be somewhere warm and tropical?"

Meanwhile, above him, his unseen stalker silently rejoiced at seeing her target finally leave. While it had not been terribly long, the wait had chilled her to the bone and she could no longer feel her feet. Smoothly rising up from her prone position on the roof and deciding to waste no more time on this, she pulled out her chosen weapon, aimed, and took the shot at the back of his head… only for the target to quickly sidestep the pie she had flung as though there were eyes in the back of his head.

"Son of a rot-sucking whore," shrieked Sera as her 'target' turned around with a wide, almost taunting grin. "How do you _always_ know when I'm going to get you?"

"Magic."

"Ha ha. Very funny," she deadpanned as she nimbly hopped down from the roof and made her way over to his side. "You joke now, but you can't get lucky and dodge forever yeah? I'll get you good eventually."

Harry just snorted in response, having no intention of telling her that it actually _was_ magic that helped him keep avoiding her pranks. Just not any type she would recognize. After such a long lifetime that was filled with violence and conflict as often as not, his magic just instinctively acted as a form of sixth sense: warning him of danger nearby or when someone tried to sneak up on him.

The two fell into a sort of companionable silence as they walked away from the Singing Maiden, although Sera being herself was unable to stay quiet for long as she began to excitedly explain her plans for messing with Commander Cullen's underclothes the next day and he listened on patiently.

Despite his initial reservations about her somewhat crude sense of humor and foul mouth in the beginning, the two of them had just seemed to click immediately after her first attempt to prank him. She had pouted up a storm when he managed to avoid her initial 'bucket of water over a door' prank completely, and vowed to not let it go until he got his initiation pranking. Apparently, she did this to everybody that joined the Inquisitor's party, and him being the first to evade her was a stain on her honor.

To almost everybody's surprise, he had just laughed at hearing this and encouraged it, welcoming the challenge and opportunity to keep his reflexes sharp. When questioned by a puzzled Cullen on why he would want that, Harry had explained that his Godfather had been a self-styled Master Prankster when he was younger. Having her around and doing this brought back happy memories of the man and time they spent together. Perhaps he could even join her every now and then, to keep the memory of Sirius alive, he had concluded with a smirk. Cullen threw his hands up and walked away upon hearing this, claiming that if there was another Sera around the Breach would be the least of their problems.

Returning his thoughts to the present as his companion snickered to herself picturing the Commander's embarrassment at having his underwear dyed pink, he noticed her slight sniffle every now and then as they walked.

"How long were you waiting on me," he cautiously asked the woman. "It can't have been easy staying out in this kind of cold if it was longer than just a few minutes."

"Uhhhh… maybe an hour or so," came the hesitant response, almost as though she was embarrassed to admit how long she had committed to trying to get him with the pie. "It's fine though, I'll go to my tent and get warm. Right as rain in no time." In spite of her confident words, the sniffs continued to come with almost every sentence and it was pretty obvious that the cold had gotten to her.

"Are you absolutely sure? I could give you some tea and heal you up real quickly, Rania was talking about journeying to the Storm Coast tomorrow to confront the Blades of Hessarian over the missing scouts there. Don't want to be sick for that if you're roped into coming."

"Said I'd be fine, didn't I? Don't need no fancy magic healing for just being a bit chilly now," was her immediate response, before backtracking slightly. "Sorry, won't snap at you. Just concerned, yeah? I'll be fine though. You'll see."

"If you say so Sera," Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "Don't regret turning this down if you spend the entire journey sneezing and coughing. I offered." With that, he said goodbye with another wave before parting ways with the archer and heading off to his cabin. The Herald had implied that he was to accompany the party as their usual healer, an elf named Solas he had yet to meet, was currently away looking into rumors of ancient elven artifacts capable of strengthening the Veil nearby. It would be best to use the next few hours until dawn to pack and prepare for the journey.

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"Atchoo!"

"So…"

"Not a single. Bloody. Word." Sera glared at Harry while he tried and failed to conceal his amusement as she sneezed for what seemed like the hundredth time during their trip to the Storm Coast. True to his predictions the previous night, the prankster had been selected to accompany him, Cassandra, and Rania out to the Storm Coast. The weather was miserably wet, the bandits they had encountered to far had been hostile, a dragon had been spotted in the area, and to top it all off Sera had been grouchy the entire time as Harry's words turned out to be prophetic. Her cold wasn't terribly severe, but it was another irritation to pile on with the rest of the burdens that the coast was giving them. It didn't help that she was being too stubbornly prideful to just accept his repeated offers to just quickly deal with it.

Hopefully though, the primary reason for their trip would be resolved soon enough. While searching for the missing scouts the last time she was here, Rania had stumbled upon documents detailing the process of the Blades of Hessarian to challenge the current leader for their position. As the Mercy's Crest amulet had been made and was now ready for them, it was time to remove the current head of the order and turn them towards tasks more… agreeable to the Inquisition's goals.

"Harry, I had not thought to ask until now," began Cassandra as they made their way up a steep slope towards the location Scout Harding had given for the Blade's main camp, "but why is it that you are carrying that staff with you? I was under the impression that you did not need one for your healing and you do not use it to fight."

"That impression would be correct Seeker," replied Harry with a grin as he glanced back at the plain wooden staff resting comfortably on his back. "I do not use it at all."

"Then why do you wear it? I do not understand. Is it sentimental value?"

"Nope, I take it with me because assumptions can be a deadly weapon in an actual fight, and I'll take every advantage I can get."

"I am not sure that I follow," was the confused response from Cassandra. "Do you mind explaining that?"

Looking over at Sera and then Rania, Harry noticed both paying attention to the conversation as well. Clearly they had either wondered the same thing, or were just curious now that Cassandra had brought up the subject. Humming lightly under his breath, he wondered how exactly to explain it to someone like the Seeker of Truth who most likely believed in fair play and honorable fighting.

"Well it basically comes down to the fact that people are lazy and will usually believe whatever they think the most obvious answer is. When you encounter a mage in combat, how do you usually handle them Cassandra?"

"I rush them down and make sure to get into close range as quickly as possible to disrupt spellcasting and use their lack of close quarters combat experience against them."

"The best way to fight against a mage, I agree. However, what if they weren't actually a magic user?"

"But you just said they _were_ a mage, I do not see what you are trying to tell me."

"Ohhhh, that's devious," Rania was the first to catch on, and her face light up with a wicked smile and a gleam in her eyes. "You bluff them into the type of fighting you're best at."

"Well I'm with Cass on this one, I don't follow at all," Sera said, followed immediately by another sneeze and glare at the ground as if the world was to blame for her being sick.

"Let's put it like this then, if you didn't know me and saw me right now, you would assume I'm a mage yes? Probably because of the very visible staff on my back. The people I fight _don't_ know me though. So if a fight started between us as strangers Cassandra, you would rush in close to me to prevent me from pulling out this staff and using magic. Then I would toss aside the staff, pull out my knives, and carve you up into little pieces while you're still frozen by the fact that the 'mage' you were preparing to take advantage of in close quarters is faster than you and knows exactly how to get his blades through the chinks in your armor. It won't work on _everybody_ , some people will either notice my daggers or be experienced enough with combat to recover in time before I kill them, but it works a fair amount of the time. Even if I only get one person in the beginning of a fight, that's one less enemy to worry about later."

True to how he predicted the virtuous Seeker would take his explanation, her nose wrinkled and she frowned heavily. "That… does not seem like a very honorable way to fight. I do not like the thought of resorting to trickery unless my opponent does the same first."

"Honor has no place in a fight. Ever. I know I probably won't be able to convince you of that, but the quicker you learn it the better off you'll be," responded Harry without turning around.

"That is not true, what about formal duels or competitions? Just because I hold myself to a higher code of chiv-"

"You just said it yourself," he immediately interjected with a frown of his own at her naivety. " _Duels. Competitions._ Neither of those are the same as a true _fight_ for survival where the only options are victory or death. Will you enjoy your moral victory from the grave after you are killed? We are fighting to save the entire world from demons and the Breach that would swallow it whole. If we fail, countless innocents including women and children will die. Is your honor worth their lives if you fall and cannot protect the only woman who can stop the rifts?"

"I… but…," Cassandra seemed stunned at having her world view called into question so bluntly, and as she stammered trying to think of an answer, Harry took pity on her and gave an encouraging smile.

"From the little time I have been around you, you seem to be an incredibly honorable and devout woman Cassandra. You are not afraid to stand up for what you believe in and hold yourself to an incredibly high standard, as you showed by publicly going against your religion and beginning this Inquisition. I am not saying that you should throw that aside and change who you are. I am only suggesting that you should consider what place honor has on a battlefield, especially a battlefield as important as the ones we face. There is nothing wrong with fighting fair sometimes, but you cannot do it all the time when the stakes are this high."

"I see," Cassandra murmured, looking more introspective than angry at his words now. "You have given me much to think about, it would seem. Thank you for answering my question."

"No problem," he said with a nod of his head. For a few moments he remained silent before continuing, "I'll just say one last thing and drop the topic. I once knew a man named Javik, who said something that has always stuck with me. Nobody _survives_ a true war with their honor intact. Stand in the ashes of countless dead souls and ask the ghosts if honor matters. The silence is your answer."

The entire party followed Harry's lead after this in going quiet, because how could someone even respond to a statement like that? Not even Sera had a witty or irreverent comment to make. So they just turned back to the task at hand and continued to make their way deeper into the Storm Coast.

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Roughly half an hour after the end of the conversation with Cassandra, the thoroughly soaked group of four paused as they reached the top of a hill and saw the large wooden fort ahead of them. Outward facing wooden logs sharpened into spikes lined the well worn path leading to the main gates, and two armed members of the Blades waited by the entrance seemingly on guard duty.

"Those are some impressively high walls, and they look very sturdy. I don't like our chances as such a small group attempting to siege the place," Rania broke the silence as they observed from far enough away that they would not be spotted and attacked.

"We do not have to, you brought Mercy's Crest yes? According to the information you found, they will not attack us if you use it to challenge the leader," responded Cassandra as she unconsciously gripped the handle of her sword tighter at the sight of the supposed enemy.

"I still don't like it, betting too much on the honor of a bunch of friggin bandits," spat Sera to the side before sneezing again. "Let's just fight them how we always handle it. It's worked so far, yeah? We can put a bunch of arrows in the pissbags from here while Cassandra does her meatshield thingie and Harry… does whatever he does best. Sneaky sneaky and all that."

"Why fight more than we have to though? These Blades of Hessarian don't consider themselves a bandit group Sera. They believe that their work is misunderstood and they serve Andraste through whoever is wielding them," stated Harry mildly as he glanced over at the sick archer. "To a religious group like that, their traditions and reputation is going to be incredibly important. They aren't going to just suddenly break it for no real reason. If we have the Crest, we can challenge them." Turning to Rania, Harry gave her a hard look. "Are you absolutely sure you want to be the one wearing the Crest? We don't know what type of combat the challenge will be. If it's a one on one fight and you're up against some hulking knight in armor you'll be at a disadvantage, especially in an enclosed space like the fort."

Rania smiled warmly at him, "I appreciate the concern but it does have to be me. Like it or not, I'm more than just some elf who waves her hand and closes rifts. I'm the current face of the Inquisition, and our reputation is a factor to consider. Having someone fighting my battles for me all the time gives the impression I'm a puppet and weakens our image. I'm sure it will be fine. Besides, for all we know it won't be one on one and it will be him and his inner circle against us."

As she stood up, pulled out the amulet, and confidently made her way towards the front of the fort, Rania's three companions just shared a helpless glance before getting up and darting after their de facto leader.

"I hope you turn out to be right about this…," Harry whispered as they caught up and strode forward by her side.

Ahead of them by the camp, the guards quickly spotted the approaching party and gave a quick shout of alarm before both reached back to pull out bows. As they nocked the arrows though, both paused when the Herald didn't stop or run for cover and instead held her right arm up high with Mercy's Crest held tightly in her hand.

"I'm here to challenge whoever your current leader is for his position and control of the Blades of Hessarian," she shouted out to the now shocked sentries. "Will you grant me safe entry? Or break your code of conduct?" In spite of her calm tone and unconcerned posture, the others noticed that the hand not held up was gripping the bow hanging on her back tightly enough to make her knuckles whiten.

"Well it would appear that they will not immediately attack, at the very least," Cassandra hissed as one of the guards turned around and quickly made his way into the fort to presumably alert their leader of the challenge. The remaining man stayed where he was with an arrow still nocked on his longbow but was no longer aiming in the direction of the group.

After a few more tense minutes of waiting, wondering whether they would be attacked or be granted entry, the first guard who entered the fort came walking back out with his bow back in place on his back rather than in his hands. Whispering something to his fellow sentry that none of them could hear due to the distance and making a few gestures at the group, the second bow was put away as well and both motioned for the foursome to approach the fort.

"Let's do this," Rania muttered under her breath as she placed the amulet around her neck, straightened her shoulders, and strode forward confidently. When she was within a few feet of the guards and main entrance she addressed them again, "I assume I am being allowed to challenge your leader, yes? Are my companions allowed inside or will it be only me?"

"All of you may enter, he is waiting inside by the shrine. Any hostile actions unrelated to the actual duel will be immediately punished and you will die," came the blunt response from one man as the other simply nodded once and grunted in confirmation.

As the short conversation was going on, Harry took the opportunity to examine both strangers more closely now that he was able to pick out fine details. Both wore the same well kept uniform, their equipment and armor was in relatively good condition, and from their stances seemed decently trained. He nodded to himself as his guess that the Blades of Hessarian were not a simple group of bandits operating under the false guise of religious fervor was confirmed. If this went well, it would net the Inquisition a well trained force of agents along the Storm Coast. If it didn't… well he had no intention of allowing Rania to be killed. She would probably be angry with him for interfering, but if it looked like the Herald would lose the fight he would step in and kill her opponent as well as any of the Blades who tried to stop him. Well trained or not, they weren't worth the life of the only woman able to close the rifts.

As they headed inside of the camp closely behind the guard who had just spoken, Sera let out a whistle of surprise. There were easily thirty people gathered in a large circle around a massive looking man in heavy armor with a greatsword flanked by two snarling mabari war hounds. While primarily human, there were a pair of elves and a single dwarf as well among them. Harry quickly glanced around but didn't notice any obvious mages, although it was certainly possible for one to be hidden in one of the wooden buildings that lined the sides of the camp or blending in with the more common archers and soldiers. Finally, they all stopped once inside of the circle a few feet away from the man with the war hounds that was obviously the leader and Rania stepped forward to address him.

"You are the current leader of the Blades of Hessarian?" she said loudly. At his wordless nod, she continued, "Then as you already know, I am here to challenge you for control of this group. What are the rules of the challenge?"

"Me against you, to the death, no interference from your friends," sneered the man as he absently clenched one hand into a fist. "I've heard of you, the false prophet claiming to be Andraste's Herald and to speak for Her. I've already had your people killed, and looking at you I don't think you'll be much tougher. I hope you've made peace with your companions, because your life and lies end here." As if able to sense the increasing aggression from their master and the oncoming fight, his dogs began to bark at her while baring their incredibly dangerous teeth.

At the mention of the missing scouts that she had found dead, Rania's eyes narrowed dangerously and her expression turned murderous. "Good to know you're to blame for that. Nobody harms the Inquisition and lives. I'm going to enjoy this now that I don't have to feel even the slightest bit guilty about killing you."

Looking almost taken aback for a moment at the fact that he had not managed to intimidate the elven woman half his size with his threats, the nameless man quickly shook his head and quickly donned a helmet as well as pulling the greatsword off of his back to brandish in the Herald's direction. "Get your little bow ready so we can finish this then. I'll make this quick." In contrast to his words, however, he did not wait for her to be ready and charged forward the moment her hands touched the leather grip with a loud war cry and a wide swing of the sword that Rania easily avoided by dodging backwards. Interestingly enough, a good number of the Blades watching from the circle were muttering and gesturing in a displeased manner at the foul play in what was meant to be a fair challenge.

As Harry intently watched the two fighters for even the most subtle hint that he needed to intervene, he analyzed both of their fighting styles. Despite his high rank, the warrior didn't seem to be terribly experienced in combat as he gracelessly charged after the Herald without bothering to conserve energy for a potentially drawn out fight. It would appear that he had gotten too used to his brute strength quickly winning against untrained opponents as well as having those nasty dogs of his do most of the word. Thankfully Rania was smarter than thinking she would be able to handle the brute of a man at close range and spent most of her time fluidly dodging and flipping away while firing an arrow towards the chinks in his armor whenever possible and letting him slowly wear himself down. In spite of her handling the fight properly though, it was difficult to hold back from interfering when the sword being swung was practically the same size as her and a single hit could be fatal.

Chasing after the smaller woman relentlessly, the man punctuated each blow he attempted with a loud cry as the heavy blade whistled through the air in deadly arcs of steel that seemed to just barely miss his target each time. Feinting as though swinging at the Herald's left side, his quick adjustment to the right managed to draw first blood as the tip of the sword tore through her light armor and made a shallow cut in her side that slowly began to drip blood. Emboldened by the success, he seemed to speed up to try and replicate the injury, and for the next minute there wasn't even time for a single arrow from her as she desperately tried to make breathing room.

As the fight continued though and the first cut wasn't repeated, Rania's constant evasion and dodging began to get under her opponent's skin as he started to realize she was just trying to wear down his energy and that it was working. Rather than slow down and try to conserve some strength though, his swings became even more reckless and sloppy as though he were desperately trying to end the fight with one hit. His movements becoming noticeably slower, the Blades' leader changed tactics and attempted to bait the nimble elf into making a mistake.

"Should have known the 'Herald of Andraste' would be a weakling too scared to truly fight," he panted out between wild swings. "The soldiers of yours that I killed were just as pathetic, falling after just a couple hits."

For a moment it seemed as though the taunting would work as Rania's face tightened with fury and she almost imperceptibly paused, but then she just ducked the blade again and twirled away. "You're starting to slow down," she snarled back while continuing to fire arrow after arrow. "What's wrong, getting tired? Better not make a mistake!" As she finished speaking, she let out a victorious shout that was matched by her three companions as an arrow finally made its way through a small gap of the heavy armor and into the flesh just above her opponent's knee.

Relaxing visibly as the brute slowed down even further and stumbled after the target he just couldn't seem to catch, Harry turned to Sera and Cassandra. "This is over, he wasn't fast enough in the first place and now he has an injury slowing him down even further," he grinned, happy that the elf had proven his worrying about the fight to be pointless. "Hopefully we can wrap this up soon and head ba-"

"PHWEEEEET!"

His sentence was interrupted by a sharp whistle as the leader of the Blades realized that he was outmatched and almost out of energy. While the man fell back with a stumble, the almost forgotten war hounds bayed loudly and surged forward with a snarl, intent upon tearing the small elf apart at the command from their master. Unfortunately for the coward, they never managed to reach their target.

Blurring forward with dizzying speed, Harry lunged at the closest mabari with one dagger out and tackled it away from Rania's startled form. Recovering from the tumble into the mud first, he jammed the wicked looking blade through the base of the dog's skull and it collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Looking up quickly he sighed with relief as he saw the other one dead with two arrows in its head and heart from Sera and Rania respectively. Additionally, Cassandra stood in front of the Herald with her sword drawn and shield up, glaring around as though the surrounding Blades would attack at any moment.

"Don't just stand there you fools," the panicked looking warrior shouted as he watched his prized war hounds be quickly killed. Staring wildly around at the immobile Blades in disbelief that they hadn't moved to help him, he screamed,"Fucking kill them already."

After a few moments of looking around at one another and seeing nobody immediately step forward to help, the lone dwarf in the crowd pushed forward. "Why would we do that? You lose. You cheated and involved those dogs of yours in a fight that is meant to be single combat. You are no leader of mine anymore."

Seeing the majority of the crowd nodding along to the dwarf's words in agreement or at the very least not stepping forward to help the desperate man, Rania came out from behind Cassandra with an evil smile. "It would appear that this is over," she called out while walking towards him. "Will you die with some dignity, at least?" Rather than respond, the now disgraced leader spun around with a groan at the pain in his leg and tried to start limping away as quickly as possible. Snorting in disgust at the coward, the Herald nocked an arrow and aimed carefully at the man as he approached the gates. "So be it," she declared as she let her shot fly. Her aim proved to be spot on as the arrow tore its way through the small gap between his breastplate and helmet, embedding itself in the man's throat as he collapsed with a wet gurgle.

"Now," she began, turning back towards the remaining Blades of Hessarian, "is there a second in command here now that he's been removed?"

"Aye," the dwarf from before grunted. "Name's Ivor. How would you have us serve, Herald?"

"Obviously I can't stay here in person to command you all on your day to day operations, but you should gather any members who weren't here today and let them know of the change in leaders. My adviser, Leliana, will be in contact with you in the next few days with new instructions. Treat any order or suggestion from her as though it were me, understood?"

"Yes Ser, I'll do my best," Ivor replied before turning to the remaining men and beginning to bellow out orders.

"Well, that was simple enough," Rania chirped happily as she made her way back over to Harry, Sera, and Cassandra who all looked at her with varying amounts of exasperation.

"I believe you meant to say nerve-wracking," Cassandra said with a small frown while looking down at the elf's injured side. "Harry, can you heal that up for her?"

"Yes Ser!" he shouted with a grin and mocking salute before leaning forward with glowing green hands and pressing them against Rania's side.

"Warn me next time, damnit!" she hissed in surprise before smacking him on the side of the head lightly and then giving a sigh of relief as the wound sealed itself shut. "So… who's ready to head back to Haven and get out of this rain?"

"S'about goddamn time, I thought we'd be in this shit forever with how long you took to win that. Next time just let Cassandra kick his arse real quick and get moving," Sera immediately cried out before sneezing.

Harry just shook his head with a smile as the rowdy elf began her usual playful teasing and bickering with Cassandra and the four of them made their way out of the fort and past the body lying in the entrance. Glancing at it for a moment while pausing, he shook his head and jogged forward to not get left behind by the women. He would let someone else handle the mess for once.

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 **Author's Note: Sorry I know this one took a lot longer to write without being significantly larger than usual but I was visiting family for Holidays and had a bunch of social obligations. Plus I'm a lazy shit.**

 **So I've been actually struggling a little bit with deciding how to handle party sizes over the past couple days. While in the actual game itself, I absolutely understand having a party size limit of 4. Larger groups would get too complicated and take up too much micromanagement. But from a storytelling perspective, I don't see how I can justify that while writing this. Not everybody would be available for every time they go out to do something of course, but I feel like on crucial missions they would absolutely bring as many of the Inquisitor's party as possible. So do I go the more simple route of having 4 party members at all times (without really having a narrative reason) or give having more people (and by extension dialogue and combat to write) a try? Let me know what you think in a review or PM.**

 **On the topic of reviews, I'd like to be able to interact with readers a bit more so I'm going to have a (hopefully) small section at the end of chapters where I give a quick response to reviews that either bring up good points or explain why I'm not going to take certain suggestions. I'll be doing my best to keep it relatively small though because I know nobody wants to see an A.N. at the end of a chapter that's longer than the actual story. So if I don't respond to your Review in particular, it's not that I didn't see it or don't appreciate it. All feedback is welcome, I just don't really want to flood entire pages with just 'Thanks for the review' written in a different way over and over.**

TyberAurora: Sorry, but I doubt my ability to write a romance with one person well, much less two. I've got no problems with harem stories but I don't think I could pull it off. As for your thoughts on his fighting style, I completely agree. I know I don't really write combat that well but I'll try to emphasize his efficiency and lethality in a fight more. For magic, I promise I have an explanation for why he doesn't smite everything that (hopefully) will make sense in the story. I agree that it would make him unstoppable which is why I wanted to avoid that. I don't really see a way to write this story and make any conflict believable if he can just Fiendfyre once and destroy an entire army.

Everybody Concerned About The Pairings: I promise that when I decide (if I decide) who to pair Harry with in this, I will change the summary to reflect that as well as warnings if I go Slash. I know it's not everybody's thing and that's absolutely your choice.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Wandering Mage: Thedas**

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 **Chapter 6**

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Two days after the successful outing to the Storm Coast and handling the Blades of Hessarian, Harry found himself sitting around in his cabin with absolutely nothing to do. The Herald was currently off in the Hinterlands securing Horsemaster Dennet's services for the Inquisition with Iron Bull, Dorian, and Blackwall, so none of them were around to keep him company. Varric and Cassandra were both nowhere to be found around camp at the moment, Sera was off pranking poor Cullen again, Harry would rather gouge his eyes out than spend time around Vivienne willingly, and he still had yet to meet Solas in his time here. Supposedly the elf was off on his own mission locating and activating ancient elven artifacts that were able to strengthen the Veil nearby and was due back within the next day or so.

Walking leisurely over to his desk, Harry grabbed a well worn leather book as well as a quill and inkpot from the surface of the table before heading over to the comfortable looking armchair next to the fire. Dropping down gracelessly into the cushy furs and letting out a grateful sigh as the fire warded off the usual cold weather the mountains seemed locked in, he looked down at the book in his hand. While at a first glance it didn't appear to be anything special, it was in fact one of his most prized possessions and one of the only remaining items he still had from his original home dimension those countless years ago. It was the journal he had been using ever since he realized he was unable to die and would continue to jump from dimension to dimension until seemingly the end of time. The book had a magical lock on it that prevented anyone other than him or someone he gave explicit permission to open it, and never seemed to run out of pages as far as he could tell. You could open it and flip through the pages for as long as you wanted without ever reaching the end. So he had decided to chronicle his travels to the best of his ability within the journal.

Opening the book, he quickly flipped to the most recent entry and frowned as he started to read it and realized just how long it had been since he wrote in it. It had been roughly a decade since the last entry soon after the end of the Fifth Blight and his time traveling with the Hero of Ferelden had come to an end. To be fair though, he rationalized, that had been the last time he was involved in anything even remotely exciting or important. Spending years isolated at his home in the outskirts of the Hinterlands didn't exactly make for interesting reading material, so the entries had stopped. It was an unfortunate side effect of living so damn long, entire decades could blur past in the blink of an eye if nothing significant happened to catch his interest.

Realizing that he had nothing better to do with the afternoon than this, Harry slowly flipped back through the pages until he reached his first one in Thedas. Smiling to himself as he thought back to how he had joined up with the then tiny party that Aedan lead, he started to read and lost himself in the sometimes fond and sometimes foul memories.

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Several hours later, Harry finally had made his way back to the most recent journal page, and stood for a quick walk around the interior of the cabin to stretch his muscles while deep in thought. After rereading his thoughts during the time he spent traveling with Aedan and company, he had come to the conclusion that he had been unfair to Leliana in the war room back when they first encountered each other with the Inquisition. While he had been content with the knowledge that she and the others had succeeded and survived the Battle of Denerim, many of them had truly believed him to be dead and mourned a close friend.

He had encountered the warden and his traveling companions just after they had left Kinloch Hold during a bandit ambush and had managed to convince Aedan to let him join by demonstrating his fighting skills during the attack and healing magic afterwards to a grateful Sten. He then spent the rest of the Fifth Blight fighting alongside them to stem the tide of Darkspawn until just before the Battle of Denerim. As the party had approached the besieged city, a massive host of the foul creatures had caught them off guard from behind right as they were about to cross a bridge over the Drakon River. Traveling at the very back of the group that day, he had been hit the hardest by the initial ambush and by the time the others managed to break through the group of hurlocks surrounding him their sheer numbers has cost him his left arm, his right eye, and had numerous stomach wounds. While it was true that none of this was fatal for him, it didn't change the fact that none of the party would survive long enough to make it to the city unless someone held the narrow bridge long enough for the rest to escape. So, Harry had forced the others to abandon him and get to the city as quickly as possible in order to stop the Archdemon. Since he had never shared his immortality with any of the others, they must have simply assumed he had died to save them.

While a few of Aedan's traveling companions like Wynne or Morrigan would not have been too upset about his loss, he had truly gotten close to the others. Leliana in particular had been his favorite, and he had even nicknamed her after his mother once they got close enough due to the similar fiery red hair and indomitable spirit both shared. She had reminded him of his younger self so much back in the beginning, so confident in their black and white views of morality and the world in general. It had been a long road to help shape her into the more mature and pragmatic woman that she had become, but it was absolutely worth it and he had considered her to be his best friend during their travels around Ferelden. From her reaction to seeing him alive and well again, it wasn't unreasonable to assume that she had held him in high regard as well.

"Damn, I suppose I'm going to have to apologize now," Harry murmured to himself as he chewed on his bottom lip. He had been successfully avoiding the red headed Spymaster since their first encounter, but if he went out of his way to find her and apologize she would demand an explanation. Should he try to tell her the truth? That he had actually died and come back? Or would a lie about managing to survive the encounter and finding a supremely talented mage able to restore him to peak physical condition work out better? Knowing the clever woman she would likely see the lie for what it was, but telling the truth opened up an entire slew of other issues. He would have no real way to stop her from spreading the story and his condition around if she chose to, and there was the chance she would not want anything to do with him if she took the revelation badly.

Humming to himself under his breath as he made his way back over to the chair and sat down again, he mentally shrugged. First things first, he needed to add in a new entry to the journal about his time with Rania and the Inquisition. Glaring down at the quill and ink pot now gripped in his right hand, he lamented the usual struggles of landing in dimensions without any technology. Archaic writing utensils instead of pens, no computers or easy to access history archives to bring him up to speed quickly on the world's past, nothing able to travel faster than a mounted animal, and no plumbing. On the plus side though, the lack of technology usually meant that learning how to blend into societies that had humans was easier due to no complicated tech to learn as well as making it easier to hide living so long without visibly aging. Electronic databases could be a pain in the ass when facial recognition was used.

Beginning to write, he put the issue of explanations to Leliana and the others aside until a later date. He had time to consider it after all, it's not like there was any pressing need to handle it now. He was in the middle of the Inquisition camp until the trip to Redcliffe in a few days to meet with Grand Enchanter Fiona anyways, what were the odds that a situation would arise by then where he would be forced to reveal himself?

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"I just had to tempt fate, didn't I?" Harry groaned to himself later that night as he gently massaged his temples to help with the building migrane. "Could I please not be forced to spend my time here until the Herald gets back tomorrow? It smells like wet dog and shit in here. Can't I just stay in the cuffs with a guard or two so you're happy on an actual bed?"

In the less than five hours since finishing the latest journal entry in his cabin, a combination of awful luck and rash actions had managed to demolish any hopes he'd entertained of controlling when and how his secret would get out. Raising his head up as what seemed to be the worst of the headache's pain subsided, he sneered at his new home for the time being. Until today, he had been completely unaware that the Chantry building in Haven had prison cells hidden underneath the holy place, and from the looks of it neither did whoever cleaned the place. The majority of the cells had fallen into complete disrepair, with locks rusted off, mold growing everywhere, and even a few bones from where presumably the previous inhabitants had died. Currently he was locked up in one of the few working ones left, his feet cuffed close together as well as his hands to prevent any real movement on his part. There was no bed, no chamber pot for using the restroom, cold air from somewhere in the room kept him just on the edge of shivering constantly, and the slow drip of water from one point on the ceiling was getting on his nerves as the sound repeated over and over without an end in sight.

"No," was the immediate and brief reply from his current guard, Cassandra. Far from the more friendly attitude she had been taking towards him over the past few days of getting to know each other better, the Seeker's gaze was now hardened and wary as she kept watch from across the narrow hall. Her posture was rigid and her hand rested right on the hilt of the sword hanging from her hip, clearly displaying her displeasure. Whether that displeasure lay on him, or the situation in general was unclear though, and Harry hoped very strongly that it was the latter. As one of the core founding members of the Inquisition, Cassandra's opinions held far more sway with the inner circle and general population than she realized. If she either feared or disliked him strongly enough to be outspoken about it, remaining with the Inquisition would become far more difficult.

"Please, Cassandra?" Harry sighed with a vague gesture at the metal cuffs locked around his wrists and ankles. "I can't run anywhere with these on me and you could still have a guard or multiple make sure I don't somehow escape your custody. I willingly came here and allowed myself to be locked up without a struggle, remember? I'm not interested in being the Inquisition's enemy and I'm not a spy."

"I do not know what you are, or what you are capable of after what I saw today," the stern Seeker replied evenly without meeting his eyes. "I only know that you are not just a normal mage like you previously claimed and have been lying to us all. How can you possibly expect me to just believe you and turn against a previously trusted member of the Inquisition?"

Harry let out an exasperated groan as he did his best to explain again, "I'm telling you Cassandra whatever that… _thing_ is, it is not an elf. It either killed Solas on his journey and attempted to replace him for whatever reason, or Solas was never really who you thought he was and you had a powerful entity hiding right under your noses in the camp this whole time. Regardless of which it turns out to be, I was doing the Inquisition a favor before you and Varric chose to let him escape."

"Let him escape?" Cassandra's voice instantly colored with indignation at the accusation. "Even if I were to just accept your hunch as the truth and turn against a man who has helped the Inquisition from the start, neither Varric nor I were going to just abandon someone with such…" she trailed off uncertainly as her gaze drifted down to his neck and torso while her jaw clenched. "Varric and I both thought you were going to die. I still do not understand how you managed to recover so completely and in such a short amount of time. From all I know of healing magic it should not have been possible to do what you did."

At the slightly worried tone of her voice, Harry realized with relief that Cassandra did actually care to some extent what happened to him and was most likely just confused and upset with the situation of having to imprison someone she had started to consider a friend. Rubbing the bridge of his nose as best he could with the cuffs still on, Harry sighed. "Look, that's a really long story that I doubt you're even going to believe. I'm sorry for putting you in this unpleasant situation in the first place, but do I really have to be in this festering shit-hole while I wait for Rania to get back. It smells worse than Sera's dung pies down here."

"I am sorry," the Seeker responded, sounding genuinely sorry to have to reply in the negative. "I cannot allow you to leave until a judgment is made. It is not my place to decide, that job belongs to the Herald. You will get your chance to explain the situation to her though, I promise you that much." Suddenly the door to the room swung open with a loud creak and a man that Harry did not recognize entered, although from the Inquisition armor and weapons he could assume this would be his new guard until the next shift change. As Cassandra stood with a grateful nod to the new sentry and made her way towards the exit, she gave Harry another long, thoughtful look. "I do not know what tomorrow holds for you, guilty or innocent, but I hope for your sake that it is the latter. Maker be with you." With that said, she resumed her walk towards the exit and stairs.

"One last thing to consider Cassandra," Harry called out before she was out of earshot. "If Solas truly was who he appeared to be and had nothing to hide from the Inquisition, why would he attack like that and run? An innocent man could easily prove himself as who he claims to be." Cassandra paused, but didn't respond, and the door slammed shut with an ominous thud as Harry hoped he had given her something to think about. With the Seeker of Truth gone, he did his best to get comfortable as his thoughts turned back to the past few hours.

"What a colossal fuck up."

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 **Earlier**

Standing up with a little smile as he finished updating the journal on what had happened since the Fifth Blight and with the Inquisition, Harry let out a satisfied groan as he twisted and popped the joints in his back and neck. Catching up on so much missed time, even if much of it was skimmed over due to very little happening, had taken almost two hours so that he could be as meticulous as he preferred to be when recording events. Now that it had been finished though, he was free to… well… go back to his previous boredom. Glancing around the interior of his cabin with a critical eye, he decided that he had spent enough time sitting around here for the moment. Grabbing the knives he had hand crafted himself from the desk and strapping their sheaths to his legs just in case, he headed out the door with a new spring in his step. A walk out along the mountain paths was just what he needed right now. It would help him feel less cooped up, give him some solitude to think over the issue with Leliana from earlier, and he could appreciate the scenery while doing it. Despite his rather negative views on the often freezing weather of Haven, Harry couldn't deny just how beautiful the natural surroundings of the Frostback Mountains were sometimes.

The cold air lightly stung his face as he strode away from the Inquisition's camp, and each breath burned just a tad in his lungs for the same reason. Snow crunching and packing beneath his feet with each step, it took almost no time at all to start losing some of the stress that had started to accumulate over the past few days as he simply took the time to walk and enjoy some of the still unspoiled nature of this world. His immortality had given him a lot of time to consider things and build perspective, if nothing else. One of the aspects of his personality that he had improved on exponentially was impatience and rushing things.

He had been a fool back in his youth, Harry thought to himself absently as he watching each breath frost and appear before him. Constantly sprinting from one disaster or war to another without any real time to slow down and appreciate the little things that made life worthwhile like a nice relaxing walk through the woods. There was no joy or happiness in the type of empty existence he had forced on himself in his home world as well as the first dozen or so that he had been taken to after moving on the first time, forcing himself into an endless war of fighting battles for other people with no real break. It had taken him a very long time to realize that despite how it may seem to others with no real comprehension of the double-edged sword that is immortality, he was not some omnipotent deity. Living a long time didn't make him impossibly wise or reveal all the secrets of life, it didn't mean he couldn't be wrong or make horrible mistakes in judgment, what little magic he could still do with the exception of healing was usually too dangerous to even attempt when remotely near other living beings, and most importantly it didn't obligate him to solve and micromanage every single problem a civilization faced just because he could.

When he intervened too often in a civilization's growth, he actively harmed its future by slowly making the people in it become more and more dependent on his advice or actions to survive. Back in the beginning in the third dimension he had traveled to, he had made that mistake. Despite seeing himself as a helping hand to guide one of the world's primitive civilizations grow in the most beneficial way, he had in reality become a benevolent tyrant. Without realizing it, he had intervened so often and for such trivial things that they had literally become unable to function without him there to guide every little choice. Then he left for a little under five years to explore some of the world, thinking that his work was done. What he had thought of as a self-sufficient metropolis of life had completely torn itself apart and died by the time he returned to check up on it. It wasn't a mistake he was eager to repeat.

So he usually stayed by himself or at the very least stopped trying to be a white knight for every injustice in the world, the main exceptions being world threatening catastrophes like the two he had been present for so far in Thedas. While he had not done all that much during the Fifth Blight due to only arriving a little under halfway through it and his "death" just before the Battle of Denerim, he intended to take a far more active role in the current chaos caused by the Breach. One could argue that Kirkwall had been similarly significant and deserved intervention as well despite the much smaller scale due to the possibility of an Exalted March as well as causing the Civil War, but he'd had no way of knowing that until afterwards when the events there had mostly resolved themselves. Regardless, despite the Herald's ability to close the smaller rifts, according to what he had heard of their first attempt the Breach remained stubbornly out of reach without significantly more power. This was why they would be traveling to Redcliffe within the next week to recruit the Mages and hopefully solve the problem. Harry had briefly considered offering to supply all the power that Rania would need without needing to trust the rogue group, but had decided against it very quickly. He had never done something like this before, and had no idea how to properly control the amount of energy he would force upon her. If he gave her too much, at best she would likely burn out and die at the sheer amount power coursing through her mortal body. At worst… well he had no intention of blasting all of Ferelden and Orlais to a smoldering pile of rubble.

On top of the problem that simply closing the Breach in the first place posed for the Inquisition, there was still the arguably larger issue of what had even managed to cause the massive tear and instability in the Fade to begin with. An explosion of such magnitude did not just simply occur naturally, especially considering where it had happened. The combined chaos of stopping any negotiations between the Templars and Mages, killing the Divine and sending the Chantry into a panic, and the threat of demons terrorizing the entire continent was far too convenient to put down as chance. Someone was likely using this as a distraction for a larger plot, whatever that happened to be. So he would stay with the Inquisition until they managed to find and kill whoever had caused this chaos, or step in and remove the problem himself if it proved to be truly beyond the abilities of his companions.

Suddenly, Harry froze in mid step and his eyes widened in shock. Lost deeply in thought as he was, he had not noticed the powerful presence that was unmistakably approaching him or possibly the Inquisition camp back at Haven until it had gotten too close for comfort. Silently thanking his impossibly long life for giving him time to more or less perfect the art of sensing magic to a level most mages could only dream of, he frowned heavily at the sheer strangeness of what he was feeling in comparison to the world he was currently in. While in some dimensions Beings of Power were commonplace, Thedas was not one of them. The only thing he had ever sensed here that was even remotely comparable to this was the Arch-Demon Urthemiel a decade ago during the Fifth Blight, which was not a very pleasant thought given the terror and death it had managed to cause. To be fair, whatever this was not nearly as powerful and did not feel anywhere near as dark and malevolent as Urthemiel, but considering that it had been an evil dragon corrupted by darkspawn that wasn't saying much. Regardless of being weaker than the Arch-Demon, it was still magnitudes more powerful than the average mortal mage of this world.

As he subconsciously reached down and palmed both daggers out of habit, Harry's mind sped through a whirlwind of ideas on how to handle the situation before being forced to discard them one by one. Outright fighting likely wouldn't be an option unless he had no other choice, they were still too close to Haven for that. Hiding and letting whatever this was pass him by might not work if by some chance it could sense him as well, not to mention the damage it could cause the Inquisition if it was here to cause trouble. He could try to go for a sneak attack and take it out quickly, but that probably wouldn't work on a Being of Power and he'd end up fighting again. Bluffing it into backing down and leaving… could potentially work, but it would rely on this creature being able to sense he was a far greater threat than he appeared as a single human. Deciding to take this route, he put away both daggers quickly to give the impression of being completely unthreatened by whatever danger it posed, took a relaxed stance in the middle of the path with his arms crossed, and waited.

Finally, after a minute of quiet anticipation and apprehension towards how this would turn out, Harry's patience was rewarded with the first sight of… was that a bald elf coming around a bend in the path? As the approaching figure made its way closer and closer, it became apparent that it was indeed what appeared to just be a rather slim and unassuming elf making its way towards him. However, the magic that Harry was sensing could not lie and the appearances here would not fool him. This was no ordinary elf, it was something far greater. During his travels across Thedas before settling down in the Hinterlands, he had been fortunate enough to stumble upon and explore a temple to Andruil in the wilds that had practically hummed with forgotten energy. The power he was feeling from the man before him was too similar to be coincidental, so he felt it safe to assume that the stranger was likely some sort of acolyte or priest to one of the Elven Gods. There was also the possibility that it actually was one of the Gods, but that seemed extremely improbable. Regardless of what he turned out to be, Harry would not be allowing him to approach the Inquisition and took a single step forward.

"Stop. You will not approach Haven or the Inquisition. Leave now, and live," were the calm words that came out of his mouth and he watched as the "elf" frowned in what appeared to be displeasure.

"Who are you to command me on where I can or cannot travel?" came the swift reply as the unknown entity did not even pause in walking closer. "An even better question would be: why do you think you have the ability to stop me? My name is Solas and I am a close companion to the Herald of Andraste herself, now move out of my way before I force you to." As he finished speaking, he came to a stop roughly ten feet from Harry and pulled a staff off of his back.

The world seemed to slow down for a moment as the words sunk in with Harry and the implications of this suddenly hit him. For starters, whatever this was did not seem intimidated and clearly did not have the same sort of ability to sense magical power as he did. There would not be a peaceful resolution to the situation as he had originally planned.

Next, if this was an impostor, then the original Solas was likely dead or at the very least imprisoned to prevent the ruse from being discovered. Allowing a creature like this into the inner circle of the Inquisition and close to the Herald was not an acceptable situation. As far as he knew, none of the Inquisition would be able to tell the difference unless they were truly close to the elf and knew his mannerisms perfectly. From what he had heard Solas was very much a loner, only truly interacting with the Herald and Inner Circle when necessary so that was unlikely. Additionally, this thing would not attempt an infiltration like this without at least decent acting ability to convincingly fake the original's personality.

The alternative was an even worse outcome though, and the possibility was genuinely scary. If this truly was Solas, then the Inquisition had unknowingly had a spy in their midst from the very beginning. How many plans had been made with input from the trusted member of the Inner Circle guiding them towards his own larger, unseen goals. How much crucial information about the inner workings of the Inquisition had been passed on to others? Was he possibly involved in the Breach being opened in the first place? While he seemed rather weak compared to the sheer destruction used to destroy the Conclave, he was still the only Being of Power Harry had encountered since the Arch-Demon a decade ago.

"Normally I would agree with you and not prevent a lone traveler from going on his way," he agreed amicably with a friendly nod towards 'Solas', "but unfortunately I must make an exception for some _thing_ like you heading towards my friends in the Inquisition with unknown intentions. Even if you are who you claim to be, the others cannot sense your true nature like I can." As Harry finished speaking and his words registered with the being across from him on the path he watched as 'Solas' paled heavily and clutched his staff with a grip tight enough to turn his knuckles white and knew that he was correct in his assumptions. Now all that was left was to see how it would go over with the shocked looking man.

"I have no idea what kind of nonsense you are talking about so move before I truly lose my patience with you," he blurted out in the kind of sloppy desperation and lost composure that is only caused by something going truly wrong or a plan being derailed.

"Don't be stupid," Harry responded quickly without any outward change of expression as he decided to try and bait him into revealing more, "You and I can both see how you reacted just now. I am assuming nobody has ever seen through your disguise before, and I can understand why. It truly is superb, if I were not able to sense how old and strange your magic is I would have been fooled as well. You are related in some way to the ancient elves if I'm not mistaken," he continued in his bland tone as though he was discussing the weather or something similarly mundane. "You feel far too similar to one of Andruil's temples for it to be coincidence."

"No mere human could know all of this," Solas murmured just loud enough for Harry to be able to hear, evidently giving up any chance of keeping his charade going. "Who and what are you?"

"My name is Harry, and I do not believe that I will be sharing anything else about myself to you," he replied with a slight mocking bow. "Now, my original statement still stands. Turn around and leave before I am forced to intervene and stop you."

"You claim to be able to sense my magic and how much stronger I am than an average mage, and yet you would still fight me?" Solas stared with narrowed eyes at the enigma he was faced with, although his voice sounded intensely curious now rather than his earlier shock at being discovered.

"Yes, I would not be here if I did not know I was capable of stopping you," was the blunt response as Harry reached down and pulled both daggers out from their sheaths on his thighs. "Final warning. Leave."

Rather than respond verbally, Solas whipped his staff forward with a loud war cry and a veritable blizzard of lethal looking ice spikes flew forward toward Harry's head. Bending vertically backwards and avoiding the initial volley in an inhuman display of flexibility, Harry smoothly flipped back up to his feet and dashed forward with his knives held in a reverse pickaxe grip. The fight was on!

In response to the charge directly at him, Solas twirled his staff rapidly before thrusting it forward accompanied by a blinding storm of sleet and ice that Harry was unable to fully dodge. Squinting his eyes tightly shut to avoid possibly losing them and being forced to fight blind until they regrew, he was lucky enough to only have a few superficial cuts that began to heal as the barrage ended. However, that was where Harry's temporary luck ran out. Upon opening his eyes and taking stock of the situation again, it became clear that Solas had not wasted a single second of Harry's inactivity. Dozens of pulsing blue glyphs littered the ground at various intervals as well as one located directly under him, creating a literal minefield surrounding the two of them.

"Fuck."

Immediately after Harry's eloquent statement at the situation he found himself in, he hurled his body forwards as quickly as his body was able to move in an attempt to avoid the worst of the damage through motion. His entire world focused down into a deadly game of movement, unable to stop for even a second at the risk of being skewered from head to toe by the icy mines surrounding him. Despite straining his body to beyond its limits, eventually a mistake was made. His right leg lingered for just a fraction of a moment too long and it was over. White hot pain tore its way up the appendage as numerous icicles shredded their way through flesh and bone with a sickening ripping noise. Snarling in frustration as his muscles seized and stopped in the face of such heavy damage, Harry collapsed to the snow coated ground and landed partially on another one of the accursed glyphs.

 _"This is what I get for letting my fighting skills get so rusty,"_ was the only thought that came to mind before the next detonation occurred and the pain blissfully disappeared as everything went black.

 **.**

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"What a curious person," Solas murmured to himself with a hint of remorse at being forced to take the life of one so young. Moving over Harry's corpse, he knelt down and flipped the body over onto its back so that he could get a closer look at this enigma. "It is truly a pity that I will not get answers from you," he whispered into the mountain air as he committed the young man's face to memory, "but bravado can only get you so far against a gifted mage."

Suddenly, as if to disagree with that statement, a gurgling gasp split the silence as the 'corpse' drew a laborious breath.

"Not possible," Solas gasped for the second time as he jumped back in surprise and his eyes quickly darted to the numerous fatal wounds all across the body before him. The throat, at least one lung, and likely the heart were all pierced completely through by icicles of various sizes. Then there was the right leg which was almost completely torn apart in addition to the copious amounts of lost blood saturating the snow beneath him. Solas was not considered an accomplished healer for nothing, he knew nearly everything there was to know about injuries and the body in order to fix them. It was simply not possible for Harry to be alive right now… and yet he was. Another strangled inhalation followed the first a few moments later, and yet another after that.

 _"Returning to the Inquisition will simply have to wait until after I have stored him away somewhere for study in the future,"_ Solas thought to himself as he considered the implications of what he was looking at. Somehow, Harry appeared to have advanced healing magics to such a degree that he was able to perform them on himself unconsciously well enough to avoid certain death. The possible ramifications of this if he could just duplicate it were astounding, and who knew just how many other secrets this young man held?

Unfortunately, Fate did not seem to like the idea of history taking this course, and intervened in the worst possible way for the elven mage. From the distance, he abruptly realized that he could hear at least two people approaching.

"Yo… ure that y… eard something from this direction Seeker," Varric's faint voice slowly became more audible as it approached closer to Solas' current location. "I don't hear anything at all, maybe you were imagining it?"

"I do not believe so," came the curt reply in Seeker Pentaghast's clipped manner of speaking, "I am certain that there was yelling coming from this direction as well as an explosion. It was quiet, yes, but definitely there."

From the volume of their voices, the two Inquisition members were far too close to him for a clean escape with Harry's body and Solas swore viciously in elvish under his breath as he resigned himself to fleeing without his prize. A small part of his conscience felt guilty at viewing a living being as nothing more than a test subject to study, but the logical side of his personality squashed the rebellious thoughts very quickly. Now was not the time to succumb to moral decency, not when his ultimate goals were so important for all of elfkind. Besides, compared to what he had already done, the freedom of one person was an insignificant price to pay.

After one final glance at the body healing before his very eyes from what should have been fatal wounds, Solas turned around and quickly set off in the opposite direction from the incoming duo of Cassandra and Varric. His good standing with the Inquisition would likely not survive Harry's testimony against him, but there was still no sense in letting either one of the others see him. Without anybody actually laying eyes upon him, it would end up being just Harry's word against his. Not an ideal situation, but potentially a redeemable one.

However, just before Solas reached the cover and safety of the deeper woods on the edge of the path, three things happened in quick succession and ruined any possibility of salvaging this horrendous mess or his months worth of carefully crafted plans.

Solas heard the familiar whistling sound of a projectile approaching him from behind and quickly spun back towards the source, an instinctive spell surging out through his staff in reaction to the threat.

Harry grinned with an almost feral glee as he realized that Solas' spell casting wouldn't leave him with enough time to dodge his thrown dagger afterwards.

Cassandra and Varric both arrived on the scene just in time to see Harry's dagger bury itself up to the hilt just below Solas' left collarbone with a wet crunch and Solas' bolt of ice slam home into the top of Harry's neck and out the back right at the base of the skull in a spray of blood.

Gritting his teeth against the pain of his wound and staggering away as quickly as possible, Solas completely ignored Cassandra's cry of horror from behind him as well as Varric's shout for him to stop and explain what in the Maker's name was going on. There would be no peaceful return to the Inquisition after that display in full view of the two Inner Circle members, and he swore violently for what seemed like the hundredth time since the beginning of this unlucky encounter. Everything that could have gone wrong, had gone wrong. Now his seemingly endless complex spiderweb of plans would begin to unravel and most if not all the work he had done until now would be for nothing.

Hatred slowly began to seep into Solas as he mentally cursed the catalyst for this series of improbable and unfortunate events. At least there was the single silver lining in this perfect storm of circumstance and misfortune: the final blow had to have killed the damned nuisance. Incredibly advanced healing or not, there was a major difference between healing wounds (even incredible severe ones) and bringing the dead back to life. The bolt had very clearly severed the connection between skull and spinal cord, that was an instant death regardless of healing prowess.

As the disgruntled mage moved further and further away from the Inquisition, his mind eventually turned to the future. It was time for a new plan.

 **.**

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Present

Thirteen hours, twenty nine minutes, and fourteen seconds.

Harry was incredibly, incredibly bored. There was only so long that a person could stay nervous about an upcoming event before realizing it is out of their control and that worrying about it is pointless. He'd managed to find his personal limit thirteen hours, twenty nine minutes, and now thirty seconds ago.

Smacking his head back against the stone wall of his cell behind him for the umpteenth time, he wondered just how much longer it was going to take Rania and the rest of the Inner Circle to gather for his 'judgment.' He had been locked down here for over a day now, and there wasn't really much left to think about at the moment. He had already replayed the confrontation and fight with Solas in his head a thousand times, analyzing his mistakes and miscalculations in order to improve for the future. He had decided on how he would handle the upcoming questions and demands from the others, and he had mapped out a training regime for himself to follow in order to get back into peak fighting shape once he was released. His performance in the fight had been absolutely pathetic. Allowing himself to become complacent with knocking around untrained bandits and run of the mill warriors in this world was completely unacceptable. He would force himself back into the lethal warrior he was capable of being when truly pressed, it was only a matter of time and dedication.

Suddenly, Harry was pulled from his musings and time counting by the sound of the door to the dungeons creaking open once more and a guard he didn't recognize entering the room.

"It's time, get up."

Wordlessly following the brusque orders and staying still as he was unchained from the wall, Harry shuffled forward towards the stairs as best he could with his legs still shackled together. Very aware of the guard's eyes drilling a hole in the back of his head in order to stop any escape attempts before they could even begin, he cracked his neck from side to side with a series of loud pops.

"Alright, it's showtime."

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 **Author's Note: I don't have an excuse for taking so long other than this being my first nasty tangle with Writer's Block since it's my first time ever writing on here. Sorry. Chapter just didn't want to come out in a way that left me remotely satisfied so it took a lot longer, my bad.**

 **So this initial conflict with Solas and having him not be a part of the Inquisition has always been a planned part of the story and a crucial part of the plot bunny that inspired this. Sorry to all the Solas fans! I'm not going to be just mindlessly turning him into a villain for Harry to kill, I'll be doing my best to keep his motivations and actions in character. Try to keep in mind that while he does help the Inquisition in game, it is for his own reasons as well as having been the one to start the chaos in the first place regardless of 'good' intentions. I just didn't want to just copy paste the story from the game onto with the only real 'innovation' of the story being Harry's actions and him romancing someone. Having someone like him involved with the Inquisition will absolutely change how some things go for various reasons, but it won't always be huge plot divergences like this.**

 **It seems that most people are in the same mindset that I have when it comes to party size. I'll do my best to write larger groups especially on missions where there's no possible narrative justification for leaving 5 people behind and we'll see how it goes. If I can't manage it or find it too difficult I'll just go back to 4 people at a time.**

Dur'id the Druid: Thanks for the warning about Fanfic's general response to story responses, but for now I'm going to keep doing this little section. I double checked the rules, and review responses aren't explicitly prohibited. I can't do polls, choose your own adventure, Q&A stuff, or massive notes at the end but I'm being very careful about this and avoiding that. To EVERYBODY in general, this section at the end is not a guaranteed response. I'm not saying that if you review I will answer questions you have or allow popular opinion to completely influence the story. I'm only every going to take 1 or 2 reviews I find interesting every now and then and elaborate on either good ideas or common concerns.

TyberAurora: You're correct and that's actually the angle I'm going to be taking with Harry's magic. Without (hopefully) truly spoiling anything, he's going to be capable of massive destruction through magic but I'll be explaining (most likely in the next chapter) why he doesn't. There won't be common household or convenience spells though. I just can't bring myself to write Harry tearing through the world on easy mode or making life too easy for the Inquisition.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to any characters, settings, or concepts that you recognize from any other works of fiction. This is written for my pleasure only, no monetary profit is intended.**

 **(Formatting should be fixed now, I swear this website hates me)**

 **The Wandering Mage: Thedas**

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 **Chapter 7**

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Rania Lavellan was not having a good day.

The atmosphere in the War Room was… unsettling to say the very least. Not a single one of the currently present members of the Inner Circle truly knew what was going on other than Cassandra and Varric, neither of whom were feeling very talkative. When questioned, Varric would simply avoid the topic and say he didn't know that much more than anybody else, talk to Cassandra. The Seeker of Truth then avoided the question, claiming to not wish to start until everybody had arrived and leaving everybody in an uneasy limbo of anticipation.

Finally, Commander Cullen arrived in the room with a huff, red faced and puffing slightly, "Sorry everybody, I was doing my morning workout. Came as quick as I could. What's the big meeting for?"

At the reasonable question, Rania turned and stared pointedly at Cassandra with the rest of the room following suit.

"I was just wondering that myself Cassandra," the Herald started without bothering to hide the frustration in her tone. "Care to enlighten us as to why every upper level member of the Inquisition had to gather here, or where Solas is? He was supposed to have arrived back two days ago."

The Seeker of Truth clenched her jaw and looked supremely uncomfortable for a few moments, very clearly turning her words over and deciding how to begin. Finally, the silence was broken with a sentence that shocked the rest of the room to the core.

"I believe Solas is a traitor, and I _know_ that Harry is far more than the simple healing mage he claims to be."

The rest of the room erupted into a clamorous uproar of various shouted questions, claims, and confusion as Rania's temples began to throb in what was sure to be one hell of an upcoming migraine.

"SHUT UP UNTIL WE KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON HERE," she finally screamed the others into dead silence after a few more moments of the chaos. Taking a moment to rub her forehead and sigh, Rania continued, "Can you explain that to us Cassandra? Or give us proof? You know we can't just take your word on something this big."

"Yes, I can," Cassandra nodded in thanks before continuing. "Yesterday evening Varric and I stumbled onto the aftermath of a fight between Solas and Harry just as it ended. It was not a spar or some friendly competition, the aim was to kill."

"How do you know that," Cullen quickly cut in to keep the room from exploding again and keep the conversation on track. "Is it possible that it just got a little out of hand?"

"No," came the blunt reply from Cassandra. "When we arrived, Harry's throwing knife just barely missed Solas' heart when he moved at the last moment. It still looked like a bad wound though, possibly breaking the collarbone. And Solas was definitely not just defending himself either, but…" At this point, Cassandra paused for a moment to glance at Varric for help, only getting a helpless shrug in return.

"We both saw it Seeker, you're not crazy. Can't explain it, but it definitely happened," Varric nodded at her before addressing the rest of the room. "I'll let Cassandra keep telling you what happened, but I can vouch for everything she's about to say. It sounds crazy, but it was real."

"Thank you," Cassandra gave him a small smile before turning back to the conversation at hand. "Solas immediately went for the kill. He put an ice bolt directly through the base of Harry's skull in addition to multiple in his chest and leg that were already there before running away from both me and Varric. We haven't seen him since."

"Harry's dead?!" Rania's face fell as she took in the news. She wasn't alone in this either, a good number of people in the room including Dorian, Iron Bull, Sera, and Blackwall all seemed horrified at losing the young man who had so quickly befriended them.

"…No."

"Don't be ridiculous dear," Vivienne's voice cut through the room as she raised one sculpted brow, "those are fatal injuries and neither one of you are healers. He's either dead or the wounds weren't as bad as you say."

"Do not take me for some novice Vivienne," Cassandra frowned at the woman's condescending statement. "Both Varric and I have far more experience with combat than you, we know what we saw and how severe the injuries were. Harry was dead. That wound was fatal, and yet he's living and breathing downstairs in one of the cells. I do not know how he survived and called this meeting so we could hear his side of the story and explain. A guard should be bringing him up shortly."

Almost as if on cue, there was a knock on the door.

"Enter."

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Nodding in a friendly manner to the guard as he stepped forward and into the room, Harry then turned his attention to the others. Rolling his neck and popping his back with a series of loud cracks, he glanced at Cassandra. "Those cells are incredibly uncomfortable. At some point I'm making you spend a night down there."

"Harry please do not make jokes," Cassandra sighed, gesturing around her to the others in the room while the chained man nodded in greeting to those he was on good terms with. "I've already explained what I saw yesterday to the others, you are now here to tell your side of the story. I promised you a chance to explain, this is it."

"Do you mind taking off these chains first? As fashionable as I make them look, they're not the most fun accessory to wear."

As Dorian and Sera snickered together at the glib attitude Harry was showing, Cassandra just came forward without a word and removed the handcuffs while leaving the pair around his ankles intact. The Seeker gestured at the chair in the middle of the room, and Harry leisurely made his way forward to take a seat.

"Thanks, now what in particular would you like me to explain?"

"Don't play stupid," Cassandra growled at the obstinate mage. "Explain why you said Solas is neither an elf or who he claims to be, and explain how you managed to survive what should have killed you."

"You won't believe me," Harry responded with such finality that those listening could only wonder how many times those words had passed his lips.

"That's not for you to decide Harry," Rania chimed in for the first time since he had entered the room. "Right now from how I understand it, our only option is to keep you locked up for attacking another Inquisition member. You can either start talking, or put those cuffs back on."

"Do you really want the truth? Or would you prefer a more comforting lie? I can work with either," Harry responded, not seeming the slightest bit worried about the prospect of having to put back on the weighted chains.

"Quit fucking around Harry!" Leliana spoke for the first time since she had arrived. "Your life and freedom are on the line here, so can you stop making jokes just this one time?"

Suddenly, the temperature in the room seemed to drop to match Harry's icy gaze and frigid tone as he replied, "I am being deadly serious Leliana. None of you will believe the truth until I prove it to you, it will be too outlandish to even consider being correct. Then, once I force you to see it, your world will change. You will have to accept concepts you'd never even dreamed of before, accept that your entire world is a single infinitesimal speck on a larger map. Now, I ask again. Would you prefer to keep things as they are and accept a comforting lie, or hear the truth?"

"We're all big boys and girls here Harry," Iron Bull rumbled out in a curious tone, clearly wondering just where he was going with this. "I'm certain we can handle whatever it is.

As Harry quickly looked around the room and saw that everybody was in agreement, he gave a heavy sigh. "Fine. Let's get the laughter and mockery out of the way right now as quickly as possible then. I'm an immortal being from another reality who travels between various planets and dimensions at complete random. I have no control over where I go, or how long I stay. I survived those injuries from Solas because I literally cannot die, and I know he's not who he claims to be or a normal elf mage because I can sense his magic and it's more similar to one of the Evanuris or an Archdemon than a mortal."

Dead silence reigned over the room and its various inhabitants for a solid ten seconds as they looked back and forth between Harry and each other, waiting for the punchline to this joke. When it finally became apparent that there wasn't one coming, Vivienne was the first to speak as she stood up and moved towards the door.

"Well you were right darling, I don't believe you. I think we're all done here, yes? He's clearly delusional and needs help. This was a fantastic waste of time."

"Good," Harry smiled at her words. "Once you've left, the average intelligence of the room will increase drastically and save me the time and effort of trying to force your tiny brain to accept it doesn't know everything or that you can be wrong." Turning away from the Grand Enchantress in clear dismissal, he gestured to Cassandra before continuing to speak. "Give me my daggers, please? I know you have them, and I wish to show you all the first bit of proof in the long road to acceptance. You're in no danger from me, I swear it."

Rather than respond, the Seeker just stared over at the chained mage with an inscrutable look in her eyes, before turning towards Rania as the others in the room murmured amongst themselves. "It is up to you, Herald. I do not know what harm he can do while restrained in a room with all of us, but…" she trailed off with a helpless sigh, showing her discomfort with the entire situation.

"Oh why not, let's just humor him for now," Blackwall added in, the pity in his eyes for the 'mad' captive plain to see. "While he seems convinced of this fiction he's living in, he doesn't seem dangerous to us. We can stop him if he tries anything."

As most of the others nodded or verbally agreed with the statement, Rania made up her mind and just nodded at Cassandra. "Do it."

"Thank you," Harry inclined his head in gratitude towards Cassandra as the Seeker handed over the two well crafted daggers before stepping back away from him. "Now, my apologies for this bit, but it's the most effective way I've found to speed this whole process along in the past when I've had this conversation. Ripping the bandage off at once instead of drawing it out and all that."

Before anybody had time to react or stop him, Harry whipped his right hand with the dagger clenched in it and drove it directly through the side of his head with a sickening squelch as the deadly blade slammed up to the hilt in his brain. As the rest of the room watched in frozen shock, he lazily brought the other up in his left hand and slid it between the ribs on the left side of his torso, quite clearly into his heart.

"Ahhh, that silence is so much better," Harry sighed, feigning nonchalance and hiding his wince at essentially mutilating himself to shock them into listening. "I've got a headache after having to listen to all the yelling and accusations. Or maybe that's just the dagger…" he mused with a small smile at the universal shock on display across the entire room. As tedious as it could be getting people to accept that he isn't just some mad fool, seeing the skeptics shocked into silence would never get old.

"Is it safe to assume that you don't need us to get a healer for you?" Dorian was the first of the onlookers to regain their voice and get over the sheer shock value of the brutal wounds. Leaning forward slightly from his spot up against the wall, the curiosity in his eyes was as plain as day and Harry internally smiled as his initial judgment of the Tevinter mage was proven right. Dorian would not be one of the impossible to convince fools like Vivienne was shaping up to be.

"No, it's quite alright although I appreciate the concern Dorian," Harry responded with a slight grin before addressing the room as a whole. "So, who feels like coming over and checking to make sure that this isn't a trick of some sort? I assure you that these knives are currently buried exactly where they appear to be in my head and heart, it's no illusion or magical trick. A mortal would have died already without medical assistance, but I have not."

"I will," Leliana responded first and quickly made her way over to Harry with a deep frown on her face as she lightly ran her fingers around the edges of the wounds and prodding the exposed hilts gently. "May I remove them?" The Nightingale softly spoke, the certainty that this was a trick of some kind rapidly disappearing at the solid evidence directly before her.

"Yes you may," came Harry's easy response, and the entire room watched in a sort of sick fascination as both blades were carefully removed from the his body. Blood slowly started soaking through the form fitting leathers that he wore and began to drip down onto the floor below his seat until the flow suddenly stopped as the wound miraculously knit itself shut in front of their eyes. The process was repeated for the dagger in his head, and Josephine had to turn away and dry heave momentarily at the sight of the little wet chunks of brain matter dotting the blood-slicked metal at various points. After the second wound healed as well, the room fell into an uneasy quiet with nobody knowing just what to say in response to the disgusting demonstration.

"Damn, that's the problem with dramatic stuff like that," Harry broke the silence by groaning as he looked down. "Get so caught up in the moment you don't realize you're about to ruin a nice outfit to make a point."

Caught off guard by the deadpan humor in such a serious situation, Cullen let out a quick laugh before making a valiant attempt at disguising it as a cough and failing miserably. The poor commander then shrunk in on himself to present a smaller target as Leliana whirled around with death in her eyes, wordlessly warning him to not make light of the situation like Harry seemed so determined to do.

"So this is how you survived those injuries back during the Fifth Blight, then?" Leliana questioned as she turned back around, narrowing her eyes dangerously at the still chained mage. "You couldn't have just shared that you have some kind of incredibly advanced self-healing magic? It wasn't possible for you to just demonstrate like this and avoid tricking us into mourning a fake self-sacrifice?"

"First off, it is not just some form of self-healing," Harry drawled out, a touch of irritation beginning to color his tone. "As I have already said, it is effective immortality. Cullen, you were a Templar, were you not? Are you still able to suppress magic?" After receiving a nod in response to the query, Harry continued. "Please do so now, if you wouldn't mind."

As the former Templar Knight stood up, closed his eyes, and began to concentrate on enforcing his iron will upon the reality of the War Room, Harry once again picked up a dagger. However, no longer needing the sheer shock value of gaping, fatal wounds, he simply sliced a long cut down the length of his forearm. Suddenly, both Dorian and Vivienne flinched and looked supremely uncomfortable as their natural connection to the Fade and their magic was cut off, and Cullen opened his eyes.

"It is done, no magic can be used in this room for now," the stoic commander frowned with both other mages in the room nodding in confirmation. "Are you sure about this Harry? If your healing really is magic based we could just go fetch a hea… Maker's Balls!"

"There, you now have proof that this is not magic," Harry smirked as the parted skin on his arm knitted itself shut in full view of the rest of the room to various curses and exclamation from the Inner Circle members. Once again addressing Leliana, he continued. "Secondly, when exactly did you want me to tell you all that I wouldn't die? Ask the Darkspawn for a time out and just call over 'Oh don't worry about me! I'm actually immortal and won't die, so just go on ahead and trust me without any proof or reason to think I'm not just mad?' There was no reason to bring it up before the ambush during the journey because our quest was so time sensitive, and there sure wasn't time to do it afterwards. Grow up and quit letting your hurt feelings get in the way of looking at the facts Lily."

"Don't call me that," Leliana hissed in a tone that practically oozed rage from every syllable. "You have absolutely no right. Our friendship was apparently built on lies, and you're not the man I thought you were." With that said, the fiery redhead spun around and stalked back to the other side of the room, taking her place at the head of the War Table next to Cullen once more.

"So… you say you can heal from any injury then Harry?" Iron Bull broke the tense silence in his rumbling baritone voice, looking quite impressed when the mage in question nodded. "Does that include growing back missing body parts? Decapitated? Can we spar more seriously now that I know I'm not going to kill you with a good hit?"

"I have yet to find any circumstance where I won't automatically restore myself to peak condition," Harry gave a warm chuckle at the last bit that was just so typical of the fight loving Qunari. It seemed as though Bull wouldn't be the type to let something like this get in the way of a good sparring partner or friend, and the thought was genuinely comforting to him. "I've been wounded in likely every way you can imagine and infinitely more that you can't, and I'm still here. So yes, I suppose we can take our fights a bit more seriously. That would, however, only be possible if I'm released and allowed to stay with the Inquisition." Harry aimed this statement towards Rania, as she was the de facto leader of the group currently and shook the cuffs around his legs for emphasis.

"You said that your… demonstration just now was the _first_ step towards accepting your explanation," the Herald slowly began, choosing her words carefully in order to avoid sounding accusatory or unbelieving. While his apparent indestructibility had been proven, that did not make the rest of his story true. A well-meaning man convinced of his own lies could be just as dangerous as an intentionally deceitful one, and the Inquisition could not risk that. "What would the next step be? Your healing may not be magic in a way that we understand, but that doesn't make the rest of what you say true. I'm not trying to offend you, but I don't see any way you can give us proof without somehow showing us another world. Being unable to control when or how it happens is a very convenient excuse for avoiding that."

"Even if I had control over leaving a dimension I would not use that method," Harry shook his head dismissively before continuing in his soft tenor. "There is no way to travel back once I have left, so you would be stranded in a new world with no way to return. You are too important to the Inquisition to risk something like that."

"Then you are just asking us to trust you and your ridiculous story," Vivienne cut in with a sneer at the raven haired man as she spoke for the first time since his earlier rude dismissal. Who did the impudent boy think he was? She was the Grand Enchanter and personal adviser to the Empress of Orlais, not some ignorant fool who would just accept an impossible lie because she didn't know how his healing magic worked yet. "If your claim to want to help the Inquisition is true, stop trying to sell this ludicrous lie and instead just teach our mages how to replicate your healing."

"Your mages, or just you Vivienne?" Harry sharply retorted in a tone as frigid as Haven's mountain air. "I don't care about _you_ believing me, just the people I like and those who matter. If you were half as important as you thought you were, you'd be twice as important as you are. Additionally, even if it were possible for me to make another person like me, I would never do it."

"Then you admit that you don't really care about helping us or saving lives," Vivienne crowed in triumph, seizing what she saw as a hole in his argument and attempting to exploit him as the liar he was.

"No you fucking self-important moron," he snarled back at her, coming dangerously close to losing his patience and attacking the woman. "I wouldn't do it because nobody deserves the punishment of living forever. A mortal mind can never _truly_ understand the concept of forever until it is trapped into it and it's too late to go back. I wouldn't wish true immortality on anybody but perhaps a mortal enemy, and unfortunately you barely qualify as a minor annoyance _darling_." Once again choosing to ignore the now fuming Vivienne, Harry turned his full attention back on Rania. "As I was going to say before being interrupted, there is a different way I could try to prove myself to you. Back in my original world, magic was not nearly as limited as the variant you all seem to use here in Thedas. The only true limit was the imagination and creativity of the caster, and there was a method developed to allow others to witness a person's memories through the use of a device called a pensieve. I don't have one here with me, but I do have the next best thing. My journal that I always keep with me was created to function in a similar manner. By imbuing my entries with my magic as I detail my travels, pages are able to store my memories of what happened. It doesn't allow for the recall of any memory I've ever had like a pensieve would, it is limited to only what I've written about. If you'd like, you can flip to any random page in it and I can show you my memories of another world."

"Where is this book now?" Cassandra gasped, before flushing slightly and coughing at the looks she received from the others for her eagerness. "What are you all looking at me like that for? He has already shown us something we would all have sworn is impossible before today. What makes this any different? Does the idea of possibly seeing memories of other worlds not excite any of you?" The Seeker of Truth had decided to take a 'wait and see' mentality towards Harry, choosing to give him the benefit of the doubt. The young man had always been nothing but kind and friendly, and if he wanted the chance to prove his story true then why not give him the chance? If it turned out to be a ruse they could just lock him up again or kick him out, although she deeply hoped that it would not come to such dire measures.

"That's the spirit Cassandra," Harry gave the Seeker a thumbs up as well as a beaming smile that seemed to light up the room with its mere presence. "It's back in my cabin right now if someone could go grab it."

"One of the guards will go retrieve it for us," Rania stated, briefly stepping outside to instruct one of the men standing watch outside on what to do before returning to her spot at the War Table. The room fell into a lull of silence for a few minutes as they waited for the journal to be delivered before the silence was finally broken by Varric.

"Is there anything special we have to do to use it Harry?" The stocky dwarf questioned, unable to stand the silence any longer. "I can't lie, if this book works the way you say it does I can't wait to try it out. I've always considered myself a pretty great storyteller but it sounds like your journal has me beat easily."

"No need to put yourself down like that Varric," Harry shook his head with a fond expression on his face. "It takes true creativity and dedication to create and tell stories like you do. All I do is write down what I experience, it doesn't take the same skill as bringing together a work of fiction from your pure imagination. And no, my journal doesn't require anything but the knowledge of its true nature and being in physical contact with the page. I can't claim to know how it works, only the original creator could explain that. I just know that it somehow uses its own inherent magic to judge the user's intent and whether they intend to just read the entry or actually view snippets of it."

"Absolutely incredible," Dorian murmured, eyes gleaming with excitement as he considered the idea of such versatile magic in comparison to the mostly battle focused magic he knew of. "Could you teach any of it? Even if you can't replicate the journal you could show us other things, yes?"

"Erm… no actually," Harry looked distinctly embarrassed as he looked down and scratched the back of his head with a crooked grin that had the majority of the room internally cooing over how adorable the expression looked on him. "I don't really use my magic for anything other than healing anymore except in incredibly dire situations. Back in my original world, our mages used wands similar to your staves here in Thedas to channel our magic. Certain incredibly skilled or powerful individuals were able to cast magic without a focus, but it was rather rare. There was one wand, known as the Elder Wand, that was of a caliber far beyond any other known focus. The legend went that Death itself crafted the wand with its own power imbued within it, and whether or not that was true it was incredibly potent. An average mage wielding it would able to stand toe to toe with the most powerful mages in the world. Unfortunately the… circumstances leading to my immortality included this wand literally merging itself into my magical core. Even without it I was one of the most powerful mages of my generation, and with it I am literally unable to control the power levels of my spells anymore. Something as simple as a beginner spell to summon a small harmless fireball for light turns into an inferno that could raze an entire forest to the ground. My magic is amplified to such an incredible level that it's no longer possible to wield it with enough finesse for the little things or subtle uses. Healing only works because there isn't a way for the excess magic to damage the person I'm helping, it just heals them back to peak condition and disperses." Turning towards Rania with a heavy sigh, his face twisted into a tapestry of regret and uncertainty before continuing. "My original intention upon joining up with the Inquisition was to offer myself as a power source in closing the breach; you wouldn't need either the Mages or Templars if you just channeled my power. It turns out I overestimated how much you would need though once I got close enough to study it a little, and so I kept quiet. It would be like trying to fill a pond with a raging river, and if you were unable to figure out a way to cut off the connection a good portion of Ferelden would be destroyed. I wish I could do more to help with it, but I don't see how it's possible."

"Maker's Balls, you make yourself sound practically like a god," Blackwall grunted with wide eyes, doing his best to just comprehend the sheer amount of power required for such widespread total destruction.

"You're not the first to make that comparison," Harry mirthlessly snorted as his expression changed to a disgusted sneer. "You're also not the first to be wrong though. I'm no god, just some poor sod who got incredibly unlucky in the wrong place at the wrong time. I'm not omnipotent or anywhere near it. Being ancient and powerful doesn't make me magically wise or give me the answer to every world's problems. I make mistakes and bad judgment calls like everybody else, mine are just usually bigger than the average person's because of who and what I am. Being able to regenerate through any possible injury doesn't make the wounds hurt any less. Too many people expect you to save the day or fix every problem they have just because they view you as a higher power. I truly pity anybody who aspires to godhood. To become a god is the loneliest achievement of them all."

As Harry spoke, the undisguised ache in his voice seemed to resonate throughout the room and truly force the knowledge that immortality isn't some easy cakewalk to start sinking into the thoughts of the Inner Circle. Before anybody could respond, however, there was a knock at the door and the guard who had left earlier returned with the journal. As he lay eyes on his most prized possession, Harry's mood and expression changed from the previous melancholy to anticipation and glee so quickly that the others couldn't help wondering if the former was just a trick of the light or their imagination. Both Leliana and Cassandra shared a meaningful look, each recognizing the mask for what it was and silently vowing to try and help ease that raw loneliness to the best of their abilities. The Spymaster in particular was now regretting her rash words and biting tone from earlier; she had been allowing her emotions to get the best of her. Harry had always been a good friend when they traveled together all those years ago during the Blight, whether just by being a cheerful presence to brighten the mood during those dark times or by giving her advice and a shoulder to lean on when Aedan's obliviousness to her feelings had left her despairing for any kind of happy ending between them. He deserved no less than her full support as a friend for all that he had done, and Leliana made the decision to apologize when the meeting was over. Shaking her head and focusing again after her brief epiphany, she realized that the man in question was beginning to speak again.

"Now before we do this, I'd like to make a few things clear," Harry's tone turned businesslike and he made eye contact with everybody in the room to convey just how serious he was being before continuing. "I do not mind showing most of my memories in here, but some are highly personal and I reserve the right to make you choose another. Furthermore, not all of my memories are going to be pleasant. I've been to more worlds than you could possibly imagine, and many were vicious, violent, disgusting, horrifying, or any combination of the above. I'll warn you if you end up choosing one of these, but I won't stop you as long as you're certain you can handle it. Any questions before our lovely Herald chooses a page?" He finished speaking with a saucy wink in the female elf's direction, getting a blush in return.

"Yeah. Do we have to take part in this freaky magic shite?" Sera's voice wasn't quite as steady as it normally was, showing just how uncomfortable the down-to-earth woman was with such abstract magic. "Like, sure, maybe you're telling the truth and all that. But I don't need to see it right? I don't even like normal magic, and now you're talking this crazy stuff. I'll just take your word for it and let the others go watch the spooky magic book show. You're good for a laugh and you kicked the piss out of high and mighty Solas, I don't care about nothin' else as long as you don't go all preachy on me."

"Nah, you don't have to join us," grinned Harry in response to the description of Solas. From the little bit of interaction they'd had outside of fighting, high and mighty didn't seem too inaccurate of a description for the man. "Time moves far quicker when watching memories this way than in the real world so we'll probably only be gone for a minute or so. You won't have to wait long. Anybody else?" As nobody else put up any objections or questions, Rania pushed the book to the middle of the table opened to a seemingly random page.

"Is this one alright for us to view Harry?" the woman gestured to the open section, patiently waiting as the journal's owner leaned forward and quickly skimmed through the entry.

"This should work out just fine, I think you'll all like this." Harry motioned for everybody other than Sera to come closer and get into physical contact with either of the open pages. While the relatively large group of people struggled and wiggled around trying to make room for everybody to get close enough, he continued in a quick explanation of the dimension in question. "There was no such thing as magic in this one, it was an existence ruled by science and technology as well as the ability to manipulate the mass of another object. In comparison to Thedas, the Milky Way was thousands of years ahead in terms of technological advances, and they even had the ability to travel between different planets in the sky like you would between continents in the sea." Gasps filled the room at this proclamation, and Harry couldn't hide his grin at how awed this left the rest of the Inner Circle.

"They could travel the stars?" Cassandra found her voice first, and felt the need to be absolutely sure she was understanding correctly.

"Yup," he answered, popping the p without losing his smile. "Elves, Dwarves, Qunari, and Darkspawn didn't exist here either. Instead, there were other sentient alien races that Humanity discovered and interacted with the further they traveled from their home world. It wasn't a perfect civilization by any means, there was still war, infighting, different political factions vying for power, and interspecies wars. Still, space travel was always awe inspiring. I never got tired of it. Enough talking though, time to see for yourselves!"

Suddenly, for everybody touching the innocent looking book on the table, the room spun rapidly before an uncomfortable sensation similar to being compressed and pulled through a tube left everybody nauseous as the world went dark and the War Room disappeared.

.

.

.

Harry was the first to recover from the incredibly unpleasant sensation that never seemed to lessen with time, and a soft smile spread across his face as the memories came back to him of the times spent journeying the galaxy with Commander Shepard and her crew. However, this particular memory was not one of the better ones during those times. As the rest of the Inquisition members accompanying him finally got their nausea under control and opened their eyes, every single one had the exact same reaction of awe as they froze and took in their surroundings.

"Where are we….?" Dorian whispered, not having a joke to make or smart comment for the first time in Harry's memory of the man.

"This was on the surface of the moon orbiting another species' homeworld, Palaven. Don't bother trying to leave or explore, it's only a memory after all. You won't be able to travel away from me since we can only experience what I was present for."

The rest of the group remained silent as they took in the scenery of the moon around them. Craggy gray rock formations and canyons littered the ground for as far as the eyes could see, with unfamiliar looking metallic structures dotting the camp nearby. Incomprehensible looking machines soared overhead without a sound for some reason, swarming around much vaster insectoid looking creatures made out of metal and peppering them with quick fireballs to no visible effect. Past-Harry was located nearby, wearing an all black suit of armor similar in style to the others being worn by a small group of people a few meters away in some sort of heavy discussion. His hair was matted with blood and grime and the look in his eyes was far too ancient and weary for such a youthful face as he watched the planet before him.

"Is so much of the planet meant to be on fire?" Iron Bull broke the awestruck quiet, bringing the full attention of the others to the chrome colored planet that seemed to be entirely ablaze for hundreds of miles at certain points.

"No. Palaven was being invaded by another race called the Reapers, and at this time they were in the process of destroying all major cities and exterminating all life across the entire world. That largest flaming area in the center was once the home of nearly 17 million people." Gasps and muttered curses could be heard as the massive scale of the destruction they were witnessing was revealed, and then it managed to get even more horrifying as Harry continued. "Before the invasion, I believe there were roughly 6 and a half billion people living on Palaven. By the end of the war, the reports were saying only tens of thousands were left alive. At this time we were here to gather support for an alliance of the various races to combat the Reaper threat as well as save the leader of the Turians from this moon."

"What could anybody possibly have to gain from such senseless slaughter…" Blackwall snarled, outraged by the injustice of the genocide they were witnessing that held such contrast to his morally adherent worldview.

"There was no goal," Harry sighed, his tone helpless and resigned. "They literally only existed to exterminate all other organic life. We did win in the end and stop them, if that makes watching this any easier. Now come on, this is over and done. No point in dwelling too hard on only the negative memories. In spite of the war, there was still happiness and fond times spent with each other."

As the memory faded out into the next, the rest of the time spent in the journal flew by in a blur of motion to the others. While many sights and technologies were impossible to understand or lacked context, others did not and brought both smiles and tears in equal measure to the onlookers.

 _Drinks shared between soldiers and unfamiliar alien looking strangers, uproarious laughter filling the room and hysterical tears being shed at embarrassing stories or a well timed joke._

 _Chaotic explosions and flashes of light as Harry operated an unfamiliar ranged weapon of some sort on the battlefield, bringing death and destruction to any in his way as the small squad he traveled with decimated vaguely humanoid husks._

 _Long nights spent simply watching the cosmos blur by quicker than the eyes could track or watching beautiful star systems float by near a window in a strange metallic machine journeying through the galaxy._

 _A tearful reunion with a fiercely proud woman covered head to toe in colorful tattoos, guarding a small group of children in uniforms. A passionate kiss shared before parting ways as well as a vow to survive and return._

 _A monstrously sized creature gliding through the sands of a desert world, clashing in an earth shaking bout against one of the metallic Reapers from before. Two implacable titans, one organic and one synthetic, locked in a battle to the death for the future of a world._

 _The heartbreaking loss of a comrade, vigils held and drinks once again shared in honor and memory of the proud warrior who spent his last days fighting for what was right._

 _A colossal machine coming together and being finished, impossible in scope and design. The hopes of a universe resting on its back._

 _Speaking to the same tattooed woman from before, a last goodbye before a final stand. Another promise to survive and return before setting out on a suicide mission._

 _Endless waves of mutated monstrosities, each larger than the last but still breaking upon the well oiled machine of their squad like the tide on a rock. Separated from the rest, holding a choke point to buy time for the others._

 _Relief, satisfaction, victory, an unearthly red glow illuminating the entire universe for a brief moment. A writhing portal, consuming grief, three words for the abandoned lover, a broken promise, and finally darkness._

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

Once again, Harry recovered first as the rapid fire onslaught of memories came to an end and deposited the group back in the real world. Waiting patiently for the rest of the Inner Circle to get up and focus again, he turned to Sera who was waiting with her arms crossed looking bored near the doorway.

"How long were we gone?"

"Only ten minutes or so, that was right quick. Turn out well?"

"I certainly hope so. If that couldn't convince them of the truth, I don't think anything will." Turning towards the now recovered Inner Circle, who seemed almost shell shocked at the influx of foreign experiences and culture shock, Harry decided to try and head off any off topic discussion of what they'd just seen. "Since I already know somebody is going to ask, I'm not going to talk about my love life that you got a glimpse of. Truthfully, I'd like to avoid any real questions that require too much detail or backstory about it in the first place. I don't mind quickly summarizing, but another time please. We could speak for hours and you wouldn't learn everything you'd like about that universe. I also don't mind showing you other worlds, but just not right now."

"That's reasonable enough I suppose," Rania slowly nodded before seeming to come to a decision and facing the others with a resolute expression. "I can't speak for all of you, but I no longer have doubts. As impossible as it seems, I _do_ believe him. Does anybody disagree, or should we let Harry loose?"

As nobody spoke up in the negative, even Vivienne, Cassandra stepped forward brandishing the same set of keys from earlier and released the remaining cuffs around Harry's ankles to the mage's delight.

"Thank you for giving me the chance to prove myself to you all," Harry stood and bowed slightly, taking the chance to slowly work the kinks out of his legs now that he could stretch. "So how do we proceed from here? I assume I can stay with the Inquisition, yes? I wasn't lying when I said I want to help. I may not be able to just close the Breach as I originally intended, but I'm still an able fighter and healer."

"I personally don't see why not," Varric mused, scratching the side of his head as the rest of the room with the exception of Vivienne either nodded or vocalized their assent. "We all just saw how valuable of an asset you can be in a fight as well as an example of your character in fighting for what's right regardless of the odds. I think the Inquisition could use that. Plus that journal of yours could give me some incredible inspiration for my books in the future."

"I still think this is an unnecessary risk," Vivienne spoke up although it lacked the same conviction as her earlier objections. "I know you won't listen, but I still feel the need to say it."

"Your support for me just fills me with warmth Viv," Harry teased while clutching his chest but gave her a nod regardless for not making more of a scene. Perhaps it wouldn't be completely impossible to have civil interactions with the woman in the future after all.

"If nobody else has any reason not to allow Harry to stay with us," Leliana chimed in with her lilting accent, "Then I propose we conclude this meeting. Its main purpose on determining whether he is a threat has been completed, and we have been here for quite some time. I would like to see more worlds in the future though when we have time, if you wouldn't mind."

"That would be acceptable," Harry conceded after looking around and seeing interest from Cassandra, Iron Bull, Dorian, and Rania as well. "The same terms would be applied from earlier however. I reserve the right to avoid certain memories at my discretion." At their nodded agreement, Harry inclined his head and deferred the floor back to Rania, who stood and addressed the Inner Circle as a whole.

"That's all for now, we'll meet again if possible tomorrow to discuss how to approach the Mages in Redcliffe and who will be going to represent the Inquisition. Until then… go do whatever the hell you all do in your free time."

Standing and stretching once more as the others slowly trickled out of the room, Harry paused as Leliana called his name and approached him just outside of the War Room before he could leave the Chantry building.

"Harry, I'd like to apologize for earlier," Leliana began, holding his gaze firmly to make sure her sincerity was understood. The Spymaster had no intention of permanently burning this bridge, and the earlier the apology the better. "You were correct, I let the hurt of you having a secret I didn't know get in the way of thinking logically and you deserve better. You have always been a good friend to me, and I do not wish to ruin that. Will you forgive me?"

"No." Harry quickly replied, holding a completely straight face for a few moments as Leliana audibly gasped and he memorized the utterly gobsmacked expression on her face before bursting out laughing. "I'm just messing with you Lily, there are no hard feelings here. I know it's a lot to take in all at once, and I don't blame you. Friends?"

"Friends," she warmly smiled back before quickly enveloping him in a hug. As they both turned towards the exit and slowly strolled in its direction, a mischievous smirk made its way onto Lelianas face. "So," she coyly murmured, "Tell me more about that woman from your memories. The others may not have noticed the little gaps you left in your time spent with her, but I didn't. Was the sex good?"

As Leliana's pealing laughter rang through the air at his flushed embarrassment and clumsy attempt to change the topic, Harry couldn't help matching his friend's wide smile. Perhaps being outed to the group wasn't as bad as he had originally thought. It was good to have his best friend here back.

 **.**

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 **Author's Note: Sorry, this was another longer wait than I'd like. I have a lot of trouble with writing dialogue heavy stuff when multiple characters are present. It's tough for me to balance having the characters be involved in the conversation without ending up with pages of nothing but conversation that doesn't really advance the story. I'm not entirely happy with this chapter and I'll probably come back in the future to make the conversations seem more natural.**

 **The journal is another thing I've been planning from the beginning as well as the memory flashbacks of other fictional settings whether they end up being video games, books, movies, or tv. There will definitely be more of the flashbacks in the future but they won't be a central plot point again like this one. I may end up just making it a small section at the end of chapters that is clearly separated from the main plot where Harry shows a different character a different world. We'll have to see how it turns out and how you all feel about them. Once again, I own nothing but Rania at the moment so please no suing me.**

 **Thanks for all the positive reviews and feedback everybody! I'm doing my best, but it's hard to keep going sometimes since I struggle so much with taking what I have in my head and translating it into readable fiction. Not having a beta is a struggle too since my English grammar isn't the best. It takes me nearly as long to edit my unreadable garbage as it does to write it. Also for some reason the formatting despises me and I have to fix it no matter how many times I double check before posting.**

 **See you all next time, hopefully it won't take a full month again.**


	8. Chapter 8

The Wandering Mage: Thedas

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Dragon Age. Nothing you recognize from any other works of fiction belong to me in any way, shape, or form. I am not profiting off of this story in any way and write for fun only.**

 **A/N: Yes, I know it's been practically forever. I'm so sorry, but real life has been rather hectic and any desire of mine to use what precious little free-time I had for writing disappeared completely. I'm back for now at the very least, and again I promise I will NEVER ABANDON A STORY without an official update to you all. Starting now and moving forward, there will be some slight changes to how I format chapters, write internal thoughts/flashbacks, and give scene breaks. I would go back and edit the previous chapters, but I have unfortunately purchased a new laptop since I was last writing this story in April and didn't save them on my profile for longer than 90 days. So for now I'll leave them as they are, and potentially go back and make these formatting/writing style updates as some point in the future. We'll see.**

 **Also (shameless self-promotion time) I started another Fanfiction just a few weeks back when I finally managed to get back in the right mindset for writing and wrangled real life back into some semblance of order. It's for the One Piece fandom, called V For Vectors, and it's actually already about the length of this one at the time of starting this chapter. Give it a look if you're interested!**

 **Chapter 8**

* * *

Things had been going smoothly.

 _Too smoothly. Now I've jinxed myself,_ Harry thought with an an amused grin at his cliché conclusion. While it was true that things generally didn't go this well for him, there was no point in getting moody and paranoid about the future. _What happens, will happen. I'll deal with it as it comes.  
_  
It had been six days since his… interrogation with the Inner Circle in the War Room, and if he was completely honest with himself the lack of rough patches with the others was astounding. With the exception of Vivienne, and Harry didn't really care too much about her opinion anyways, things had mostly returned to their normal routine before his encounter with Solas. Only the Inner Circle currently knew the truth about his situation, which he was immensely grateful for. Having every single member of the Inquisition treating him differently would be such a tiring experience, especially since they hadn't gotten the chance to interact with him much. Those who knew the truth now had at least been given the chance to interact with him normally for some time and get to make their own judgments on his character before this bombshell was dropped.

Honestly, the biggest and only real change in their interactions with him so far had been the constant requests to view other worlds through his journal. Every single person who knew about the book, with the exception of Vivienne, Sera, and Josephine, had come to him at least once over the past few days after their curiosity had finally gotten the better of them. Harry wasn't sure how he felt about it yet: on one hand it was always at the very least entertaining to see their awestruck reactions to the different cultures, people, and worlds. On the other, some of the memories dragged up were ones he didn't particularly care for, and it was sometimes painful looking back on all the people he had been forced to leave. True to his word, however, Harry didn't outright refuse to share any memories that were not either intensely personal or outright sexual.

 _I really wish I hadn't let Iron Bull view those entries from my time spent in Lothric in hindsight though,_ Harry internally grumbled. _These sparring sessions have become borderline insane._

Once the fight-loving Qunari had seen just how proficient he could be in close combat against much larger opponents when pressed, their sparring had been kicked up yet another notch. An unfortunate side effect of the better fights was that sometimes the giant would go completely berserk and lose himself in the thrill of violence to a dangerous level. Harry was always quick to end the 'spars' once it got to this point before the man actually hurt himself or someone else, but that didn't make it any less dangerous for anybody nearby when it happened. He'd tried talking to the Qunari about it yesterday and threatened to end the sparring sessions for good if it kept happening, but Bull had openly laughed and shot the idea down.

* * *

 _"You know damn well you don't want to stop these fights Harry," Iron Bull rumbled with a wicked grin as the green glow surrounding his previous injuries dissipated and left the Qunari at peak condition once more. Standing and stretching out his massive muscles, the giant's intense gaze pinned the immortal mage in place as though it was a physical force. "I saw some of those memories of yours, you love a great fight just as much as I do. You throw yourself into them_ just _as recklessly as I do. Losing yourself in the flow of combat, running completely on instinct, blood rushing and heart pounding… that's the only time you can forget about your immortality, isn't it? Facing down a strong opponent or nearly impossible odds with nothing but your skill and a blade, that's when the monotony of it all ends for a while. You can trick yourself into thinking your fights have consequences for you, even if it's only for a few minutes."_

 _"I-," Harry opened his mouth to protest the obviously incorrect assumption about him, but hadn't even managed a word before the Qunari cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand._

 _"Look, if you can't admit it to yourself yet then that's alright," Bull called over his shoulder as he turned and strode away, his huge legs covering distance effortlessly as he headed towards the Singing Maiden for some food. "I'll even agree to have our spars in a more secluded area to avoid the risk of hurting anybody else. But I'd bet almost anything that I'm right, and if you'd just let go and stop ending the fights immediately when I cut loose I think you'd learn something. You said it yourself, being old as dirt doesn't make you magically wise. You need somebody to call you on your bullshit sometimes."_

 _Stunned into silence by the blunt analysis of his mental state during a fight, Harry just watched his sparring partner walk away and shrink into the distance before realizing that Rania had appeared seemingly out of nowhere while he had been distracted and was already talking to him._

" _-re you even listening to me Harry? I've called together a War Council and I'd like for you to be there. Dorian and I recently returned from Redcliffe. The situation there right now… well it's bad._ Really _bad. They're using a form of magic that none of us have ever heard of before, and it seems incredibly dangerous. We could use your input," the elf concluded with a frown, clearly thinking heavily._

" _Sure, I'll come. Lead the way."_

* * *

The report given by Rania and Dorian to the rest of the Inner Circle had been incredibly disturbing, to say the very least. Despite leaving Redcliffe to join up with the Inquisition, Dorian had an inside source of information in the castle: Felix Alexius, son of the Magister who had taken control of the village. According to Felix, his father was experimenting with incredibly dangerous time-warping magics on behalf of a Tevinter cult called the Venatori. He also apparently held an unusual interest in Rania, as well as the mark on her arm.

Obviously it was not an option to leave a foreign power on the Inquisition's doorstep with unstable magic and control over the entirety of the rebel mages, so a plan had been ironed out to get inside of the castle without the colossal loss of life in a frontal assault and confront Gereon. The Herald and a small party of companions would accept Alexius' invitation to meet, simply walking through the front gate and drawing his attention. Meanwhile, another party of Inquisition soldiers would take a secret passage hidden in the nearby windmill to enter the castle unnoticed and reinforce them as well as preventing any type of Venatori ambush.

If he were being completely honest, the plan was a bit too risky for complete comfort in Harry's eyes. Rania would be walking into the lion's den with no guarantee of reinforcements in time to help if something went wrong. Unfortunately it couldn't be helped in this case, they were unable to bring in more people with the Herald. Having Dorian, Harry, and Blackwall with her was already pushing the limits of the invitation, and bringing anybody else ran the risk of being turned away or playing their hand too early. It was only through pure luck that Leliana was able to supply them with a way to sneak more people inside of the castle for backup, and there wouldn't be an opportunity like this again. So Harry had sucked up his objections and agreed to accompany them into the trap. At the very least, he would be there to assist if things went as poorly as he was expecting.

Returning his attention fully to the present, Harry found himself face to face with an energetic Sera.

"So what's with that smirk, huh?" The female elf gave a conspiratorial wink to the mage as she poked Harry right in the middle of his forehead. "Gotta prank planned, maybe? Can I get in on it? Been too long since I got Cullen or Cassandra real good, yeah. There was the stolen breeches from last week, but they've gotten proper careful since then. Won't work twice."

"Not quite," Harry snorted briefly as the mental image of that particular prank replayed in his mind. It _had_ been a quite entertaining morning. "I was actually thinking about the journey to Redcliffe later. Should be interesting no matter how it turns out, at the very least."

"What? Why?" Sera looked gobsmacked for a moment before her face curled into a moue of distaste, nose wrinkling in a rather cute way. "Spooky time magic shite, cults, Tevinter mages everywhere… what's fun about that kind of stuff? You're weird."

"Maybe a little bit," Harry agreed with an easy grin at the irony of Sera calling anybody weird. Admittedly his situation was incredibly bizarre, but that coming from the quirkiest woman he had ever met in Thedas made it just a tad hypocritical. Hello pot, meet kettle. "Still, it should be fun to see the expression on Alexius' face when he realizes we turned his trap around on him. Then once we have the mages, Rania can close the Breach and get this whole crazy world back to normal."

"Ah," Sera's mood brightened in the way that only cutting the 'high and mighty' of the world down to size could accomplish. "Too true, that. Make sure to get that in your freaky diary then, maybe I'll even give it a looksie sometimes. Maybe then everybody finally stops bugging me about whatever stupid shite I'm missing out on in the latest one."

The revelation absolutely floored Harry, and he stumbled over his next step out of sheer surprise. Sera, possibly the most 'anti-magic' member of the entire Inquisition, had actually mentioned potentially looking at one of his recorded memories. Through _magic_. The amount of trust that must have required in him was genuinely humbling, and he briefly considered thanking the elf before realizing how bad of an idea that was. Sera was not the type of person to accept compliments or thanks easily, letting her think it wasn't a big deal and changing the topic would be the better option.

"Diary?!" Harry faked indignation with a cry, the light upward tilt of his lips letting the woman know he was not truly offended. "I'll have you know that it is a journal, and it contains millenniums worth of important information and memories! Magical scholars can only dream of finding something as incredible as my journal! It's not some little girl's diary for entries about her crush at school or pouring out her feelings," he continued with fervor, gesturing wildly with each sentence.

"Oh you're so full of piss," Sera cackled gleefully as she practically skipped circles around the disgruntled mage. "Don't start acting all high and mighty on us now. Just because you kicked dusty old Solas' arse doesn't mean you've got to take his place, yeah? We don't need another prissy mage around camp like Vivienne."

"Sera please," Harry grimaced automatically in response. "Don't ever compare me to _her_. We may technically both be mages, but that is just about the only similarity between the two of us."

"Not going to try and argue with a Solas comparison though!" Sera crowed triumphantly, pumping a fist up into the air in celebration before noticing the frown crossing her companions face. "Eh? What's gotchu so grumpy, huh?"

"Solas…" Harry murmured thoughtfully, eyes distant and unseeing as he ran through the mystery of the former member of the Inquisition in his mind for what seemed like the hundredth time in the past few days. "I don't know. He's not dead, I know that much for certain. He felt too otherworldly to perish from an injury like the one I gave him. I have to wonder what kind of trouble he may cause for the Inquisition in the future, whether as revenge or part of an already formulated plan to sabotage us."

"Uh… well I'll leave you to your, uh, super important thinking and pish," Sera laughed nervously and backed away, clearly not in the mood for heavy thinking or any kind of future planning. "I think I've had a proper riot of a prank idea for Leliana, anyways! You be careful with those mages in Redcliffe, yeah? I'd rather not lose my only fellow prankster around here."

Harry flicked the rambunctious blonde on the nose with a grin before turning away to head in the direction of the Chantry building. It was nearly time to meet up with the others and set out for their confrontation with Gereon. Waving a goodbye to Sera, he sent a confident smirk in her direction in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Not bloody likely, invincible remember? I'll be just fine. It's the others you need to worry about, and I'll do my best to keep them safe."

Sera was left watching Harry stroll away with his hands in his pockets, whistling a jaunty tune as though he hadn't a care in the world. While his devil-may-care display did succeed in bringing a momentary smile to the archer's face, her skittishness quickly returned along with the feeling that _something_ was going to go horribly wrong.

"There are worse things that can happen than death, especially when magic is involved," she whispered to the frigid winter winds.

The air did not offer a response.

* * *

"My Lord Magister, the agents of the Inquisition have arrived to speak with you."

"Ah, my friend! It's so good to see you again," Alexius uncrossed his legs and stood up from his mock throne in the great hall of Redcliffe Castle to greet his visitor. Then his eyes fell on both Harry and Blackwall following along behind Rania, and a nearly imperceptible frown flashed across his face before smoothing over into a practiced smile. "And your… associates, of course. I'm sure we can work out some arrangement that is equitable to _all_ parties."

"Are we mages to have no voice in deciding our fate?" a woman who had to be Grand Enchanter Fiona from Rania's description of their brief encounter strode over to join the small gathering with a disbelieving scowl directed towards the Tevinter Magister.

"Fiona, you would not have turned your followers over into my care if you did not trust me with their lives," the Magister sighed in a tone that implied this current line of conversation had occurred at least once before and would not be rehashed again.

As Rania chimed in with a witty quip about Alexius' face and the conversation derailed from the oncoming argument into the more productive negotiations over what would be required to secure the cooperation of the mages in sealing the Breach, Harry slowly tuned out the intense conversation surrounding him until his assistance or input was absolutely required.

 _Those time fields located along the path leading up to Redcliffe are bizarre,_ Harry absently noted internally as he thought back to the logic defying , _the only thing I've ever encountered even remotely like this is a time-turner. Rather than being isolated to an individual user, it's manifesting itself in a small contained area. How long will it be contained though? Clearly they're not an intended consequence of the time-magic experimentation, so they're expanding from ground zero. Slowly or rapidly? Need to know when experimentation began if I'm goi-"_

"We already know all about your time-magic and the Venatori, Alexius! We made sure to disarm this trap before we came in, I hope you don't mind."

Harry snapped out of his thoughts in an instant and just blankly stared at Rania for a moment in the ensuing silence following that statement.

"I am going to beat you senseless later and teach you how to hold onto your trump cards until we really need them," Harry swore to Rania who had the decency to at least look embarrassed at losing her cool and just blurting out that information so carelessly. "Why in the world would you tip our hand so early?"

"I can't help it, he's doing such a bad job of hiding his smugness at us _falling_ for this obvious trap," the elf pouted petulantly, pointing a finger over at the Magister who was quickly losing his cool at being ignored.

"Such insolence," Alexius snarled, standing up from his 'throne' once again to take a few steps in the party's direction. "You walk into my stronghold with your stolen mark, a gift you don't even understand, and think you're in control?" He paused momentarily to flash a vicious sneer in Rania's direction, as he took the opportunity to deride the elven woman. "You're nothing but a _mistake_."

"And _you're_ acting exactly like the stupid, villainous cliche that everybody expects us Tevinters to be," Dorian frowned as he exited from his hiding place behind one of the many pillars littering the great hall and strode towards his former mentor. "Can't you hear how you sound right now? We used to speak about changing how the world views us _for the better_ , not worse!"

"Dorian," Alexius spat the name like it was a foul curse, "Come to try and change my mind? It's no use. The Elder One has power that you would not believe. He will raise the Imperium from its own ashes. Why bother to try and appease these southern fools when we could instead retake our former glory and rule from the Boeric Ocean to the Frozen Seas!"

"But that's exactly what you and I talked about never wanting to happen back in Minrathous," Dorian protested with another step forward. Despite the furious expression etched onto his aristocratic features, the flamboyant mage's eyes nonverbally pleaded with his old friend. "How could you support something like this?"

As Felix and Dorian did their best to attempt talking some reason into the clearly fanatical Magister, Harry turned away from the ongoing conversations to survey the rest of the room just in time to witness the rest of the Inquisition's backup sneak their way into the room and quickly dispose of the Venatori guards scattered around the hall. In short order the only living people left in the room were the Inquisition soldiers, the Herald's companions, the Court Marshal who announced their arrival, Felix, and Alexius.

 _Well that was rather simple, especially after so much build up to getting here and making this work,_ Harry distantly thought to himself as he noticed Leliana entering the room and surveying the work her scouts had done proudly.

"They did good work here today," the Spymaster stated with just the slightest hint of a grin as Harry made his way over to her side. "I don't think we could have made this work so easily without them."

"Give yourself a little credit as well, Lily," Harry teasingly admonished the red-head with a nudge. "Your assistance was just as critical. Without you, we wouldn't have had a way to get into the castle unseen in the first place."

"Hmmm, perhaps you're right. I _am_ rather impressive, aren't I?" Leliana conceded with a faux thoughtful expression on her face, stroking her chin gently. Poking Harry's forehead in a familiar manner that almost none of the surrounding scouts had ever seen from the normally stoic Spymaster, she quirked a brow expectantly. "That means you'll need to treat me with more respect from now on, of course. You'll address me as either Lady Leliana or Your Majesty from now on, yes?"

"Of course, Your Highest Lady Majesty Leliana Ma'am," Harry bowed so low that he nearly bent in half, a solemn look on his face. "I'll have the rest of the peons informed as quickly as possible."

Leliana disguised her amused snort at the over-the-top acting with a cough and a hand placed over her mouth before her mood turned on a dime and her formidable glare was directed towards the nearest group of her scouts. "What are you all staring at? You have a job to be doing right now! This isn't over until Alexius is in chains and the mages are travelling back to Haven with us."

"But Ma'am, there's no thr-gahk!"

Whatever the unfortunate Inquisition soldier had been planning on saying was cut off with a cry as a bolt of lightning struck the man from behind, sending the soldier's body collapsing into seizures as the electricity fried its way through the nervous system. As the rest of the group whirled around in shock, they were met with the sight of the previously discounted Court Marshal free of his restraints and holding a small magical focus in his hand that crackled ominously with the remnants of his attack's magical energy.

"For the Venatori!" the blonde man cried out at the top of his lungs, a crazed look in his wide eyes as he took aim at Rania's unprotected back. Time seemed to slow down as the small medallion clenched in his hand returned to life, the electrical currents crackling around it increasing in speed and intensity as the spell charged up. "The Elder One will reward me greatly for her head!"

Harry's thrown knife slammed home into the man's throat.

"You'd need to be alive long enough to collect that reward first," the Inquisition's newest healer coldly declared as the foreign mage crumpled to the ground without any resistance, the spell fizzling out of existence as its caster struggled to breathe around the blade lodged in his windpipe.

"Damnit, _that's_ why you don't let your guard down around an enemy until you're completely certain that any danger is gone," Leliana snarled as she rushed over to her fallen scout's side, hurriedly checking him for signs of life. The Spymaster sighed in relief, her furious expression relaxing slightly as she managed to find a pulse. Then it returned full force as she whirled on the petrified other scouts who were meant to have been watching the Court Marshal who had done this. "I'm going to whip you all into shape once we're back in Haven. They'll be using the training I put you through in horror stories for years to come."

"Yes Ma'am!" the terrified scouts jumped to a quick salute in unison, internally trembling. Leliana did not make idle threats, especially when she sounded this wrathful.

"The Elder One promised, all I need is to undo the mistake at the temple…" Alexius mumbled to himself as he watched Rania like a hawk, scrutinizing her every movement as she spun around to see what all the commotion was about. Making a quick decision, the Magister held up one gauntleted hand, the amulet inside of it beginning to glow with a sickly green aura that matched the color of the time fields leading up to Lake Calenhad. "You are a mistake, you should have never even existed…"

"No!" Dorian shouted with a panicked expression as he realized what was about to happen, whipping his staff around in the Magister's direction and firing off a spell in a desperate attempt to stop him.

Finally realizing her mistake in taking her eyes off of a competent mage for even a moment before making sure he was no longer a threat, Rania's eyes widened as the world slowed down to a crawl for a second time since this confrontation began. Even as Dorian's spell impacted with Alexius and sent him stumbling backwards, the damage was already done. While the Magister's spell rocketed towards the elf and her Tevinter companion, she found her eyes inexplicably drawn towards Harry's shocked face. He was staring at her from across the room, mouth wide and in the process of shouting some kind of warning. It wasn't going to be in time.

"Harry…"

The last thing that Rania Lavellan saw as the swirling green portal sucked both her and Dorian inside of it and began to seal itself shut was Harry Potter's face contorted with rage, stalking towards Alexius.

His hands were shining with an unearthly crimson light.

* * *

"Oof," the Herald of Andraste grunted in pain as the nauseating sensation of spinning and whirling endlessly through the nether of the portal subsided, dumping her unceremoniously down to the floor directly into a few feet of standing water. "Damn magic, always so uncomfortable."

Blearily standing up and slicking back the now soaked hair from her face, Rania belatedly noticed that Dorian was crouched down next to her in the same situation that she had just been in. Offering a hand to the mage and helping him up next to her, she had to bite her lip in order to stifle the instinctive laughter that bubbled up at the sight of the normally well kept man looking so horrified while holding a hand up to his head.

"Venhedis!" Dorian swore violently, slipping back into his native tongue for a moment as he desperately ran one hand through his previously immaculately groomed hair. Spotting his elven companion's amusement, the mage threw an exasperated glare in her direction. "Oh shut it, you. Do you have _any_ idea what lengths I go to in order to look this good at all time? I know that you southerners are fine with looking like dung and smelling twice as bad, but I have standards. Do you even know how filthy this water could be?"

"We got hit by Alexius' spell, which probably should have killed us," Rania dryly pointed out with one quirked brow, gesturing to both of them vaguely. "We're not dead. Just look on the bright side."

"Might as well be dead instead of looking hideous," Dorian muttered mutinously. "If _anybody_ from Minrathous saw me like this…"

"Look, there will be plenty of time for you to fix your appearance later. For now, can we just start by figuring out where we are?" Rania asked, hoping to get the man back on track as she spun in a quick circle observing their surroundings.

The two members of the Inquisition appeared to be stuck inside of what used to be a prison cell, albeit missing the door required to lock people inside. There were no torches, but nearby mineral growths glowed with enough sickly red light for them to see their surroundings. Murky water that came up to the pair's shins filled the entire floor of the room and outside hallway, which led to a set of stairs that presumably would lead them out of the former dungeon.

"Displacement, interesting…" Dorian murmured to himself absently, drawn out of his personal hygiene nightmare by the magical mystery at hand. "It's probably not what Alexius intended. The rift must have moved us to… what? The closest confluence of arcane energy?" The Tevinter mage paced around the room as he spoke, eyes distant as he turned the matter over in his head.

"Do you want to start speaking in terms that us lowly non-mages can understand?" Rania sarcastically questioned, making her way over to the distracted man's side. "The last thing I can remember is being in the castle hall, not its dungeon."

"But if we're still in the castle then…" Dorian's face lit up with childish excitement as the exceptional circumstances of their situation dawned on him. "It isn't! It's not simply _where_ it's _when!_ Alexius used that amulet as a focus and it moved us through time!"

" _What?!_ " Rania hissed back in horror, her face draining of any color. "How far did we go? Forward or back? Can we even get back? How are you so calm about the idea of _fucking time travel!_ "

"Those are… excellent questions!" Dorian finally reigned in his academic excitement at this previously unheard of magic, and conceded that the reality of what this could mean for them and the Inquisition as a whole was terrifying. "We'll just have to find out, won't we? Look around, see where the rift took us. Then we can figure out how to get back, especially if we can find Alexius or that amulet. I'm certain I could work out a way to reverse engineer the spell he used."

"I really hope that you can back up that confidence once we find him," Rania replied doubtfully but put on a brave face for now. "At least we're still in the castle. If it hasn't been too long there's a decent chance that Alexius is still here, or perhaps an underling can be… persuaded to give us his location."

"That's the spirit, my dear!" Dorian crowed, practically bouncing over towards the stairs leading up and out of the dungeon and dragging the reluctantly grinning Herald behind him. "I can practically see it now! We appear out of nowhere, deep inside of his stronghold and past his defenses. We gallantly fight our way through the keep, slaying demons and Venatori left and right, rescuing our imprisoned friends, and defeat Alexius in a final showdown of good versus evil before he sends us back!"

As the Tevinter mage bounded up the stairs two at a time striking various heroic poses during his explanation, Rania's small grin turned into a full blown smile with accompanying laughter at his antics. Dorian just had a way of making the world a little less grim with his seemingly endless optimism and enthusiasm even in the most desperate of situations. It was an incredibly heartening skill to have around at a time like this.

"Well I suppose I should have realized it would be that easy with you by my side, of course," she nodded emphatically, making her way over to chase the excited mage up the stairs and back into the keep. _We can, no, we_ will _fix this,_ Rania declared internally with a fierce nod. _I don't care how many enemies stand between us and Alexius, we'll push through._

"No, it can't be…"

The sharp intake of air from Dorian above her interrupted the internal pep-talk as the man stopped dead at the top of the stairs, head swiveling around from side to side staring in disbelief at something currently not within Rania's field of view. Automatically reaching around her back to draw her bow and nock an arrow in a single fluid movement, the elf quickly darted the rest of the way up to the next floor.

"What's wrong? Dorian? Talk to me!" Rania's hissed questions went ignored as her companion continued his fish impression, mouth slowly opening and closing as if preparing to ask a question before returning to the shocked silence. "Damnit, what is wrong w-"

Cresting the final step and arriving next to the mage, the elven woman snapped her bow up in preparation to fire off an arrow until her blood froze in place at the same time as her mouth and brain. As the previously nocked arrow slipped from her numb fingers, Rania's lack of concentration led to the bowstring thwacking into the inside of her forearm with enough force to tear into the skin and draw a few drops of blood. It didn't matter to the elf. She was too preoccupied by the sight in front of her to react.

Redcliffe Castle was _gone_ and the world had burned.

Half melted and blackened pillars of stone were the only parts of the keep that still stood tall at various intervals, everything else had been melted down to slag that had long since cooled and hardened on the burnt ground. From the looks of it, only the few underground portions of the castle that had been dug into bedrock, like the dungeon, had been protected from whatever had happened. It was almost as though the pair stood inside the carcass of some great beast that had been picked clean down to the bone by hungry scavengers.

The surrounding lands for as far as the eye could see where no better. From their elevated position, it was apparent that whatever destroyed the castle had not been an isolated incident. The formerly lush, green hills and wildlife surrounding the empty crater that once held Redcliffe Village were just as scorched as the historic keep. Burnt, dead ashes slowly swirled in the whistling breeze as the wind picked up the remains of the fire and played with it like confetti.

"Maker's balls…" Dorian finally seemed to find his voice as he realized that no amount of blinking was dispelling what had to be an illusion. "No natural fire could have possibly done this, and the magical energy required to conjure flames hot enough to melt stone _and_ cover such a wide area… it shouldn't be possible. Oh, Alexius, what have you done?"

Unbidden, Rania's mind flashed back to their last few moments before being sucked into the magical portal that deposited them into this hell. The pure rage that had warped Harry Potter's normally kind features, his predatory stalk towards Alexius who had just "killed" both her and Dorian, the ominous aura building around his hands that matched the color of fire.

"No," the elf murmured just loud enough for the mage to hear and turn towards her with a questioning look and quirked brow. "I think this was a different culprit. You said it yourself, this kind of magic would require too much power for any normal mage. Perhaps enough Venatori mages working in unison could accomplish it, but what would they gain from torching their own base of operations?"

"Then who? Don't play this cryptic guessing game with me right now, it's not the time!" Dorian impatiently gestured for her to continue with a frown.

"Harry." Rania concluded with an air of certainty that stunned the Tevinter.

"Harry? Our Harry? That doesn't make any sense, why would he have done something like this? I've never seen him use offensive magic even once," the flamboyant man protested, unwilling to believe that their friend would have caused this kind of senseless destruction in their absence.

"Don't you remember? He told us that the entire reason he doesn't use his magic offensively is because he can't stop it from using too much power and spiraling out of control." Rania reminded him of the events of the War Council after Solas' betrayal and Harry's miraculous healing had been discovered. "As for why, I don't know for certain. Maybe he lashed out at Alexius in anger because he believes we died? Maybe he came back and torched Redcliffe because it was the Venatori base of operation? Maybe an entirely different reason that we don't understand because we've been gone for a long time. We may never know."

"Well we'd better hope that it isn't the first of those options," Dorian responded grimly, the frown on his face even more prominent than before as he began to stride forward through the remains of the castle towards the exit to the valley that Redcliffe had once inhabited.

Caught off guard by the unexpected pace that her normally sedate companion was setting, it took Rania a few moments to sling her bow back in its place around her torso and jog forward to catch up and ask for an explanation. "Why is that possibility so bad? Am I missing something obvious."

Dorian paused for a second to give the dead castle one last once-over, clenching his jaw tight at the pure destruction that had occurred before whirling around and continuing on his path to the valley's exit.

"Because if Alexius was in that castle when it burned, he's likely dead. And he may have been the only one with enough knowledge in this time magic to send us back to the past."

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 **Harry's Journal: Lothric**

"That roll was sloppy, you got very lucky in surviving that. All he needed to do was react a little bit quicker with a backswing instead of trying to jab and he could have decapitated you."

"Well, thankfully he didn't have the power of perfect hindsight to know exactly what to do in battle like you do Bull. He massacred me enough times before I managed to get the nuances of his fighting style memorized well enough to finally take him down."

Harry and Iron Bull stood side by side, both in rather relaxed poses with their arms crossed as they analyzed and commented on the breakneck fight in front of them. At the time of this particular memory, Past-Harry was locked in fierce combat with a giant of a man close to twice his height and width. Their respective weapons sang as they clashed, sparks momentarily flickering around the clashing metal as lightning quick blows were exchanged, dodged, parried, and taken as quickly as the eyes could follow. Every fighter makes a mistake eventually however, and Past-Harry was the first to slip. Reacting just a touch too slowly to a vicious shoulder charge, Past-Harry's 'sloppy roll' was capitalized on by his opponent's jab and the blade punctured directly through the lithe man's torso before being ripped out. Hissing in pain, Past-Harry reached down to his belt and flung down a modified firebomb between the two of them in order to make some space and back up. For just a few moments the fight slowed down, both combatants slowly circling as they waited for the other to move first.

The nameless opponent was clothed in a stylish assortment of armor plating, leather straps, an ornamental headpiece with flowing white tassles, and a cape that additionally functioned as a scarf hiding the majority of his features. One hand clenched tightly around a truly massive swordspear that whistled as it whipped around and rent through the air as though it weighed nothing.

Standing opposite and breathing heavily as the dueling pair backed away from each other momentarily was Past-Harry, favoring his right side as crimson liquid slowly seeped into his clothes. The drab, tattered cloth of a heavy cape hung over the blackened metal of his armor, and his trousers tucked into a complex assortment of bandage and rope wraps leading down to well-worn leather boots. In spite of his life or death situation and the grievous wound in his side, Past-Harry sported an almost feral grin and his fever-bright eyes never strayed from his opponent for longer than a quick glance.

The fresh corpse of a massive avian dragon lay limply off to the side of the pair, its feathers still blowing in the intense gale force winds being generated around the duel. The smell of ozone filled the air and the deafening boom of thunder cracked the world as the Nameless King took advantage of the pause in close quarters combat to brandish his swordspear at the sky. Immediately the clouds over Past-Harry's head darkened ominously before the world detonated like a particularly powerful bomb. It took less than a millisecond for the air to be superheated a few thousand degrees by the oncoming electricity, and as the lightning struck down like the wrath of a vengeful deity Past-Harry was once again just a moment too slow in dodging. The powerful electrical current burned its way through his nervous system in an instant, frying every single nerve ending that it touched and causing him to collapse like a puppet with cut strings and an unearthly shriek of pain.

"Seems like that stung you a little bit. Low pain tolerance will get you every time."

"Fuck you Bull."

The memory slowly began to faze and shimmer around the edges as the Nameless King approached Past-Harry's crippled, smoking body, raising the swordspear high into the air once again before swinging it down and putting the black haired man out of his misery. Turning away from the finished battle, Iron Bull stretched slowly as they prepared to move on to the next memory in this particular world.

"Well, I know one thing for sure," Bull rumbled as the world shifted around them and began coming back into focus in a different location. "You've been holding back on me in our little spars. You clearly know how to hold your own against larger opponents. We'll be picking up the pace once we're back outside in the real world again."

"Larger opponents, huh?" Harry murmured with a grin as the new memory finished forming and began with Past-Harry striding confidently through a wall of fog into the lower temple of the Profaned Capital. "You have _no_ idea…"

Iron Bull's awed cheer of childish glee as Yhorm the Giant stood from his throne with an earth shaking roar brought a similar smile to Harry's face as the pair fell into a comfortable sense of companionship as they settled in for the oncoming fight.

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 **A/N: So, how's that for a return chapter? I was going to make it longer, but it felt awkward trying to cram in more when I have a good cliffhanger set up anyways. The next chapter is going to be fun, I'm really looking forward to tossing in some more twists and turns as this new future that Harry may or may not have caused through his presence unfurls. I DID warn you all back in Chapter 6, Harry's actions and choices are going to change things from how they go in the actual game! I wonder how Rania and Dorian are going to get back to the past, now that it's not as straightforward as fighting their way through the castle and beating up Alexius. We'll just have to see, I guess!**

 **Let me know what you all think about my little 'mini-chapter' at the end and whether you'd like to see more snippets of the other worlds Harry has travelled to in the past. I'm always going to keep them fairly short and at the end of the chapter if I continue with them, I won't let it derail the plot of the actual story. I already have a couple perfectly planned out for a few of the party members. Anyways, let me know if having it before the A/N is alright or if it would be better after it. I can't decide if it's disruptive and messes with the end of the actual chapter in its current spot.**

 **Thanks for all the support during my long absence, it really does mean the world to me. I'll see you all next time, and don't forget to check out V For Vectors if you feel like supporting me!**


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